


saying something dangerous, like i love you

by gayreyna



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Camp Jupiter (Percy Jackson), Character Death, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, like... MAJOR character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28131723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayreyna/pseuds/gayreyna
Summary: the little tiber foams with blood, accepting the romans' latest offering to the gods. but on the brink of fierce and terrible war, camp jupiter allows their fated enemies into their camp, their homes, their beds.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano
Comments: 28
Kudos: 62





	1. for the glory of rome

**Author's Note:**

> this is a messy, self-indulgent fic because i love camp jupiter and the romans even though they're kinda fucked up with the whole child army thing. re-writing rick's convoluted ass plots is HARD but if he's allowed to have a million plot holes, so am i. 
> 
> lifted some dialogue and shit off of him for the plot-relevant parts, just to get the ball rolling before i absolutely demolish his plotlines.

they kill the boy in the orange shirt and strange beaded necklace.

reyna recognizes him, of course, though they're both older than the last time they crossed paths. they first met back on the island, her home and her respite from a half-remembered childhood saturated in trauma. it was a home that gave more to her than she would ever be able to give in return. she could never forget dark hair and sea-green eyes through a cloud of smoke as the resort she had come to care for went up in flames, as pirates descended on them with a malicious gleam in their revenge-hungry eyes. hylla may hold grudges against him, but reyna does not share her sister's resentment. not when that brutal path had been a road home to new rome, but it's not like that made watching the boy die any easier.

lupa had obviously found him worthy, sent him south to join the legion because he was strong enough to prove his worth. maybe that was the problem. power dripped off this boy like the water he could wield, seemed to seep out of the pores of his body, and every member of the legion could sense it. the egos in the first cohort may have scoffed at him, but the widening of their pupil's whenever they met his glance was not lost on reyna. indeed, his skill with a blade almost rivaled her own, in his unorthodox and roundabout way of fighting. she could tell as much from the way he managed to hold his own for just a few minutes against some of her best soldiers before being subdued. he was deadly and dangerous. and even all those months he spent in the wolf house couldn't smother the scent he carried. the smell of a _graecus_.

she questions him in the _principia_. octavian is antsy, but one look from reyna is enough to silence the augur for now. she will speak to the boy alone. only afterwards will they conduct a meeting with the senate and decide the boy's fate.

he doesn't remember anything; where he comes from, what happened on the island ( which he is sorry for anyway ), not even the meaning of his shirt or necklace. all he knows is his name and thanks to juno's announcement, that he is a son of neptune.

children of neptune are bad omens. they always have been. reyna has heard the stories plenty of times, old legends from the older campers, from retired praetors, from the senate. and the fact that juno had brought him to camp, _juno moneta_ , who has always guided rome in times of crisis, is no coincidence. historically, she has counseled them on great threats to the roman empire; this case was no different. the augury practically read itself, or so octavian had said. reyna is smart enough to know it's more than likely he simply wants as little competition as possible for the empty praetor chair beside her, but she cannot argue this publicly lest she look like the power-hungry daughter of bellona he deviously paints her out to be.

the senate meeting feels more like a trial— it can't even be called a trial. what crime had been committed other than the circumstances of his birth _?_ other than stumbling upon their land with a goddess in his arms? — and it is tense. it's delegated to only the ten senators; even the _lares_ know better than to show up uninvited. hazel levesque and frank zhang make the group an unlucky 13 by attending as witnesses.

reyna wants to fight the senate on their decision. the boy had told her no lies, his intentions were true; her dogs would've chewed him to pieces otherwise. the spinning of her dagger had been a mere threat to make him talk. it was not meant to be a promise. his reparations should be to save her home now, not die in it. reyna wishes for what feels like the thousandth time that jason were here. dissent from the senate always felt more comfortable when he was by her side. but she is alone in this quarrel, save for a daughter of pluto and a _probatio_ , against an entire senate and a legion that looks to her expectantly, eager to dip their weapons in blood. she doesn't like her odds.

octavian smiles wickedly, sick and saccharine, as he announces what he has seen in his auguries, how the gods have granted them this opportunity to make an example of rome's strength, and it makes reyna feel a little bit sick. words are lost on the battle-hungry senate even as hazel speaks out, begging for his life, practically imploring the senate like she had some personal stake in it. it gives frank courage to speak as well, though his voice cracks as he explains how percy saved his life.

reyna stands quietly at the podium before the rest of the senate, brows furrowed as she gives the boy a measured glance. she has called for executions before, but this is nothing like those times. like bryce lawrence, an untrainable, remorseless mess of unnecessary cruelty. like all the others who had been guilty of serious transgressions. that, that had been like cutting out something cancerous from the legion; ridding them of a malignant savagery before it could metastasize. killing the wounded wolf as to not bring down the pack with it. they are weighty decisions, maybe harsh in the eyes of some, but reyna has always striven to be a picture-perfect roman. it's a little more difficult now with a son of neptune staring at her, dumbfounded, as she agrees with the senate's course of action in a voice that does not feel like her own. like if she distances herself from it enough, his blood will not be on her hands.

he is hard to kill. none of them expected him to die quietly. it's certainly not shocking to reyna; she had seen just a glimpse of what he was capable of when he was younger. but no hero can match a roman legion. even with a strange and old weapon reappearing in his pocket as soon as they stepped outside the pomeranian line, something reyna could sense thanks to her mother's blood, the odds were never in his favor. the centurions had descended upon him, weapons drawn and deadly, outside of juno's temple. he was dead where he stood, though he fought until the bitter end. not that he ever really stood a chance against their imperial gold weapons. even if he had escaped, the wounds he sustained would have eaten away at his life force, curling off as smoke until he was gone. reyna had seen a demigod die like that before. it's a long and painful process. in comparison, what he got was a mercy.

he gets a shroud, but the funerary rites are nothing special. they are rushed and more honoring of the gods than of the boy who has just been killed. it's a small scene for cremation outside the tiny shrine of neptune, body burning in the shadow of his father's sorry excuse for a temple. octavian thought he should not have even been granted that, but reyna cuts him down quickly.

"according to your auguries, the gods granted us an enemy to prove our might. now it is time to return their offering." and as his body burns up into the heavens, the sky is dark, close to rain and storm.

octavian and reyna attend, as do hazel and frank. they really had a lot of faith in the boy. stranger still, the ambassador of pluto attends as well. he is hard to read, even considering how reyna has spent the most time with him to discuss hazel's position in the legion and the oncoming war. she thinks she sees a bit of grief behind his sullen eyes and wonders just how big of a mess they've made.

* * *

the energy of evening muster is palpable. the cohorts gather like packs of wolves, circling and staring as they fall in line. there's a restlessness amongst the ranks as most of them are still buzzing from their perceived victory. outside the senate, frank, and hazel, they don't _know_ what's happened to the boy, but they know well enough that rome has conquered their enemy once again. it's almost as good as having their eagle back, the way their morale seems to balloon around them. there's still a heaviness in reyna's stomach but seeing the legion so invigorated makes her optimistic. they all look fresh from the wolf house; ravenous and eager for a fight, like they could take on a hundred monsters each with their bare hands. even with an attack coming in mere days, an assault that most the campers do not know the magnitude of, seeing them like this makes it easier for reyna to imagine them victorious by the end of it. she gives a brief speech: praising the eternity of rome, the proof of their wisdom and power, and the many victories to come. the legionnaires beat their shields with their _pilum_ as reyna and scipio trot along the front of the formation. by the time they quiet down, she is calling the teams for war games before everyone is dismissed for dinner.

war games after are, in short, fucking chaotic. everyone is still high off of blood lust, making it difficult for reyna to get them under control. she flies around on scipio shouting orders and pulling campers apart before they can kill each other. they pull off formations like reyna has never seen before, fight on a united front. it's like watching starving piranhas go after a spare chunk of meat and even reyna suffers a few blows to her armor as she struggles to handle the frenzy. most the campers manage to satiate their wolfish desires without utterly maiming each other, but the medics still have plenty to work with. reyna continues to watch overhead and scipio gets agitated every time she urges him to dip down so she can placate another skirmish.

hazel and frank fight with newfound zeal. it makes reyna proud to see them finally rising to the occasion, after weeks and months of being outcasts, but she knows where this sudden passion has come from. they want to prove something about themselves. they want to prove that they were right about the boy and that next time, they need to be taken seriously. they cut down members of the first and second cohort, who are maybe a little too confident in themselves, grown comfortable from their dozens of consecutive victories. they haven't lost a war game since jason was promoted to praetor, but these emboldened rookies from the fifth are now giving them a run for their _denarii_. reyna personally would've paid to see the look on octavian's face as the so-called ' losers ' from the fifth cohort came out brandishing his team's banner.

reyna wears a broad grin as she announces the battle has been won and that it is time to assemble for honors. the fifth cohort has certainly exceeded expectations, though solely dependent on the ignited fury displayed by hazel and frank and a few others they had led. hannibal trumpets happily as they regroup on the field of mars.

but then a cry rips through the congratulations and celebrations, voices frantic as medics rush toward a blood-soaked gwen. her grip is weak around the _pilum_ sticking from her chest, hand slipping from the sheer volume of blood. reyna watches stony-faced, grasping tight to her reins as she awaits the medic's assessment. she doesn't need to lock eyes with him, see him shake his head, to know that gwen is gone. with a downcast glance she sees gwen's face, pale and eyes empty as they stare into nothing. reyna's gaze follows down to the weapon poking out of her chest, narrowing in on the marks engraved on the shaft of the _pilum_.

CHT I LEGIO XII F. a weapon belonging to the first. reyna's old cohort. white-hot fury rises up in her, a type of anger she hasn't felt in years. not since—

"there _will_ be an investigation." reyna says, a dangerous edge to her voice. her expression is hard and dark as iron as she surveys the campers around her. "whoever did this, you cost the legion a good officer. honorable death is one thing, but _this_..."

accidents happen, even when the legion isn't ramped up and high off of their own self-importance. it wouldn't be hard to imagine that someone had gotten a little too excited over the fray. but the blade is poking out from her chest; someone had attacked the centurion from behind. a treacherous move and one reyna finds deserving of the highest punishment.

she's still scanning the crowd, eyeing octavian suspiciously and considers summoning her dogs here and now to begin questioning when a gasp from the ground gets everyone's attention. gwen's eyes widen as she takes heavy breaths, shocking the surrounding campers into stepping even farther back from her. reyna watches with a furrowed brow as gwen mutters something about a man and a river and an open door. no one moves except for frank, who kneels down to comfort his centurion. he pulls the _pilum_ from her chest despite some of hazel's protests and to their disbelief, the wound closes almost immediately. 

reyna halts the conversation between the three of them, the interruption of her authoritative voice making silence fall on the legion yet again. she looks to nico, who wears a grim expression from the outskirts of the crowd, and she asks if this is some power of pluto. he shakes his head and reyna is not surprised. pluto does not let people return from the dead. 

she watches as gwen is helped to her feet, prepares to call an emergency senate meeting to discuss this new discovery when a disembodied voice thunders around them. _death loses its hold. this is only the beginning_. startled, scipio rears and the other campers look around wildly with their weapons drawn.

a sudden column of fire strikes the field. reyna feels the heat from it, the hair that frames her face blowing back. an enormous soldier steps out from the flames. he is easily ten feet tall, dressed in a desert camouflage that reyna doesn't recognize. he has a high and tight military haircut and dozens of scars covering his face. he wears several weapons but the one that draws reyna's attention immediately is the comically large M16 rifle. all around her, campers drop to their knees, following the example of frank zhang. even reyna follows suit, dismounting from scipio so she can pay proper respect.

the image of the soldier flickers for just a moment, like a glitch in reyna's vision. it's gone within a blink of her eyes, but the picture remains in her memory. the automatic weapon becomes a spear. camouflage fades into armor in a flash, a _cuirass_ covered by a military cloak and decorated with the image of a gorgan. she can only make out a short, curly beard because the rest of his face, his eyes, are hidden by the shadow of a large, plumed helmet. something red glows from behind the darkness of the helmet. it only lasts for half a second before he's back to being the infrared goggle-wearing, camouflage-clad soldier from before. reyna has the feeling if it were any longer, they would all be piles of ash.

the god lets out a booming laugh that echoes across the field of mars, obviously satisfied with how he's been welcomed to camp. his teeth shine white and bright through a grin.

"children of rome!" he shouts, followed by another good, hearty laugh from deep in his belly. "i come from olympus with an important message. jupiter does not like when we communicate directly with mortals, even if they are our offspring. however, he has made this exception as you romans have always been my special people. from the days of my sons romulus and remus, i have been your patron. but time is of the essence, so i shall speak quickly."

the god recounts the events of the past few days; gwen should be dead, but she is not. monsters should stay in tartarus, but they do not. what is news to reyna is the fact that mortals who were once dead are now walking the earth again. she feels her blood run cold at this and she fights to keep a measured expression. the god continues on, but she does not hear him, focusing only on the glowing, angry vision of her father crawling out from the underworld. she snaps back into the conversation when mars announces that thanatos has been chained.

"the doors of death have been forced open with no one to guard them without prejudice. my associate, thanatos, well… we work closely together, the god of death and i. i felt his absence as of late, noticed when he did not appear to gather departed souls from the battlefield. yes, that is when i truly noticed his absence. no such thing as a sabbatical for the god of death. but now we on olympus know why." mars tells of gaea, who is allowing monsters to overrun the mortal world and how her sons are assembling unkillable armies against rome. "you must find thanatos and free him from the giants. only he can reverse the tide and help us end this war."

mars looks around and notices everyone still kneeling. reyna can't see his expression behind those infrared goggles, but she can visualize the roll of his eyes perfectly. "that's enough of that." he barks. "rise, romans. any questions?"

reyna is the first to slowly rise to her feet. her experience with speaking to gods is very small — zero, actually — so she's a little unsure of how to approach the patron of rome. she draws closer to the god, followed by octavian who grovels like a pro. 

"lord mars, we are honored by your presence." she says, trying to ignore octavian's muttering beside her. she can sense mars' growing annoyance with the augur, but her sideways glares towards him go unnoticed. "as i understand it… the lieutenant of pluto has been captured by the giants, so people will stop dying?"

"not all at once." mars explains. "but the barriers between life and death will continue to weaken. those who know how to will begin to exploit it. everyone from monsters to mortals will find it impossible to die. this applies to you demigods, of course. they'll find their way back from the underworld just like your friend here, centurion shishkebab." no one laughs at this. in fact, most the legionaries winced. 

octavian raises his hand timidly and reyna can see it shaking. from fear or anemia, she doesn't know. "but, ah, mighty and all-powerful lord mars. if we can't die, isn't that a good thing? if we can live on indefinitely, wouldn't we—"

"foolish boy!" mars interrupts with a bellow. "leave it to mortals to be so short-sighted. what is the point of slaughter without conclusion? of meaningless carnage? enemies that rise again and again and can never be killed, is that what you want?" octavian immediately stumbles back, nearly bumping into reyna before deciding it is best to hide behind her. 

"i protect my legions who fight for a righteous cause, but even i do not want war without end— war without _victory_. such is meaningless violence. death must be unleashed. and thus, i order a quest!" the god is met with silence as the legionaries shoot glances amongst each other. "you will go north and find thanatos in the land beyond the gods. you will free him and thwart the plans of the giants. beware gaea! beware her son, the eldest giant!"

someone gasps behind them, and reyna hears hazel squeak out, "the land beyond the gods? you can't mean—"

mars stares down at her, his grip tightening dangerously on the barrel of his weapon for just a moment. "indeed, hazel levesque. certainly, you all remember the land where the legion lost its honor! perhaps if this quest succeeds and you return to camp by the feast of fortuna, well, perhaps your honor will be restored. if you do not succeed, there will not be any camp left to return to. the legacy of rome will be lost forever. so, take my advice and don't fail _this_ one." a shiver runs throughout the legion at the implication, rudely rubbing in their faces the failures of camp jupiter's past leadership.

reyna has to grit her teeth to keep from cursing, knowing she cannot show fear nor fury in the presence of the legion. she had been trying to keep this information under wraps for weeks, so to suppress the impending panic that such news would cause. she feels the rippling of fear begin to ebb and flow throughout the legion.

octavian, nose practically touching the ground, gathers the courage to speak again. "a thousand pardons, but uhm, just one tiny thing, lord mars. a quest requires a prophecy. a mystical poem to guide us! and without the sibylline books, it has been the augur's duty to glean the will of the gods. if you permit it, if you allow it, i could retrieve about half a dozen stuffed animals and—"

"glean the will of the gods? i'm right here _telling_ you, boy." the god interrupts, his goggles glowing dangerously as he pulls a scroll from his utility belt. "but if it is so incredibly important to you... does anyone have a pen?" mars asks, looking to the legion. he is met with silence as campers turn their pockets inside out and pat themselves down. "seriously? two hundred romans and no one has a pen? oh, never mind." and half-exasperated, he slings his M16 over his shoulder so he can pull out a hand grenade the size of a bowling ball. 

a dozen romans scream and most start panicking, tripping over themselves as they step back. some dive into the various holes blown into the field of mars for cover. reyna watches carefully but the grenade simply morphs into a pen and mars begins to write. 

"there!" mars declares as he finishes writing, throwing the scroll to octavian who is nearly toppled over by its god-appropriate size. "a prophecy for you, augur. add it to your books, engrave it in your floor, get it tattooed, whatever." 

octavian's brows furrow as he reads the scroll. "this just says 'go to alaska. find thanatos and free him. come back by sundown on june twenty-fourth or die. '"

"is that not clear?" mars questions.

octavian falters, sweat beading at his forehead. "well, lord mars, usually prophecies are _unclear_. they're wrapped in riddles. they rhyme and..." reyna glares at him, mentally trying to get him to shut up. if only a well-placed elbow jab was deemed appropriate praetor-like behavior.

the god casually pops another grenade off his belt, inspecting it like it were an apple he was about to take a bite of. "and...?"

"the prophecy is clear!" octavian announces quickly. "a quest! yes, a quest from lord mars!"

"that is what i thought." mars replies, clicking the grenade back into his belt. "now, there was something else. what else..." the god runs a hand through his buzz cut as he surveys the campers, like looking at them all might jog his memory.

"oh! right." he turns to frank zhang. "c'mere, kid."

two hundred pairs of eyes snap to frank as he takes a cautious step forward. mars grins down at him, beaming like he had just been brought his enemy's head on a golden platter. 

"good job taking the wall, kid. real nice teamwork. i'm impressed by how you whipped this lot into shape." the god jabs a thumb towards the other members of the fifth cohort, the majority of them still gathered around gwen's side. "now, who's the ref for this game?"

slowly, reyna raises her hand.

"you see that play, ref?" mars asks, sounding oddly threatening, like he would blow reyna to smithereens with his M16 if she said she didn't. " _my_ kid. first over the wall, led his team to victory. you've gotta be blind to think that wasn't an MVP play. you're not blind, are you?"

"no, lord mars." she replies evenly, though she has to fight the need to clear her throat.

"right. then you make sure he gets the mural crown." the god beams down again at his son again, a proud smile on his scarred face. "my kid, here!" he yells at the legion again just in case anyone hasn't heard. reyna never thought a god could look... nostalgic? but she supposes it makes sense, with all those centuries to live and lose.

"you are your mother's son." mars continues. "she was a good solider. good woman, too. you sure proved your stuff tonight."

as far as encounters with godly parents goes, it’s the most anyone at camp jupiter has ever experienced. sometimes legionnaires know their godly relative through their legacy. most the time though, it is a sudden surge of power or a glowing symbol from their godly parent that indicates their claiming. a meeting such as this just feels all too personal for the two hundred other demigods to be witnessing.

"happy late birthday, son. i figured it's time you got yourself a real man's weapon. get rid of that silly bow of yours." 

reyna watches as the god chucks his M16 to frank, the gun shifting mid-air to become an imperial gold spear with a peculiar point at its end: white as bone and flickering with a strange, spectral light. 

"it's tipped with a dragon's tooth. s'got three charges on it, so use 'em wisely." frank, to his credit, only looks a little bit like he's about to faint as he clutches the weapon in his hands.

"now my kid, frank zhang, is gonna lead the quest to free thanatos, unless there are any objections?" there's a dangerous lilt to the god's voice and of course, no one says anything. reyna still catches some of the glares from the other campers, especially the older recruits who haven't stepped off camp jupiter property since they got here. their envy is obvious, but mars seems too preoccupied with beaming at his son to notice. most the first and second cohort legionaries don't look happy either. some even look downright dejected.

reyna hides her own fears well, even though she can feel a sinking feeling in her stomach. a quest for _probatios_ isn't unheard of, but they are usually smaller missions, not the-fate-of-the-entire-world-depends-on-your-success types of quests. her decision to let frank zhang join the legion was not a difficult one. she judges people by their own merits and not the faults and failings of their family. but she has had her doubts since then because he is well-meaning but clumsy and more accustomed to scut work than battle. he's shown some potential, but he certainly needs a few years of legion training to bring that soldier forth, not just a few months. reyna is wise enough to not vocalize this to his godly father.

"rules are you get two companions. i don't care who you pick. you can have one of your senate debates over that. you folks are quite good at those." as he speaks, the god's image flickers like the mist playing tricks on their eyes again. thunder rolls across the field and the sky illuminates with a blinding crack of lightning. "ah, best not to keep father waiting. until next time, romans. well, if there is one. _ave!_ " and he explodes into a spiral of flames, leaving only a singed halo in the ground where he once stood.

reyna turns towards frank, feeling both in awe and close to vomiting. it's another problem added to an already full plate: giants and wars and now chained gods needing freeing from forbidden lands. that being said, it makes it easier to push from her mind thoughts of dead greek boys and treacherous augurs. after a moment, reyna raises her arm in a roman salute. " _ave_ , frank zhang, son of mars!"

the legion follows suit, joining their praetor in hailing the newly claimed camper.

* * *

the first thing they do the following morning is hold a senate meeting. the senators make their way over the pomeranian line past terminus, god of boundaries and tsa agent of new rome. he checks most of their weapons in without a fuss but makes a big deal over larry's water bottle holding more than 3.4 ounces, so the god makes him dump out half his gatorade. terminus got on plenty of people's nerves but despite his often-annoying zeal when it comes to protecting borders, he's actually really nice. from the conversations reyna's had with him, he even seems a bit lonely. it's good that he has julia now, someone he can boss around who's too young to take it poorly. he may be all marble statue, but he's got a soft spot for her somewhere.

“greetings, praetor!“ the statue bellows. “go right ahead.“

reyna feels a small tug on her purple toga and when she looks down, she's met with a toothless grin.

"hello, julia." she says, leaning over a bit and pulling a silver pocket-knife from her toga. most of her other weapons were left behind ( togas, as it turns out, are not conducive for hauling all her blades ) but she never travels without a silver weapon. "can you hold onto this for me? take good care of it, okay?" julia giggles, tucking the knife into her pocket before somersaulting away.

the praetor leads the parade of campers to the forum, drawing the attention of the city's inhabitants who are out for their morning errands. most of them wave, though some of the newer veterans still salute them as they pass.

they walk through cobblestone streets, passing by families seated outside the diner enjoying their breakfast and a decent line out local coffee shop and a dozen other happy, hopeful individuals whose home is new rome.

reyna loves this city. she has since the moment she stepped foot in it, made it her home, and vowed she would never run away from it. she had done so much running in her lifetime that when she finally found it, she planted her feet firmly in the hills of new rome. she’s put her all into protecting this city and is more determined than ever not to lose another place she calls home. even if it means making difficult decisions. even if it means putting trust into places she normally wouldn’t. anything to protect the people within these walls, the children here so that they can have the childhood she wishes she had. reyna will do anything to protect that.

they all enter the white-domed building and reyna immediately heads to the podium, paying no mind to the dozen or so veterans and _lares_ in the upper rows and the senators file into their seats in the front.

"the senate has called for an emergency meeting. we have no time to stand on formalities." she is far from surprised by the complaints she receives, mostly from the _lares_ present in the crowd. given her experience with ghosts, it's not difficult for reyna to give them all a harsh look.

"we are not here to debate the quest itself, nor are we here to call into question the companions that frank zhang has chosen. the quest was issued by our patron, _mars ultor_ , so we will obey his wishes." reyna then turns to frank, who looks as tired as reyna feels. she doubts he got any sleep the night before. "as quest leader, frank zhang is allowed to select two individuals to aid him on his quest. he has chosen hazel levesque and robert price."

beside frank are the two demigods in question. hazel hardly leaves frank's side unless she has to, so the fact he has chosen her is not at all shocking. nor is his selection of bobby, an older camper with a mop of brown hair about eight months past regulation cut. twelve lines mar his right forearm with a caduceus burned above them. it makes sense that frank would pick him. like most _probatios_ , he's been stuck with the more unpleasant tasks around camp, including elephant stall duty. that has undoubtedly given him plenty of time to spend with bobby, who's countless practical jokes over the years has pretty much earned him a career there.

"all three from the fifth? we're doomed." one of the third cohort's centurions complains. "this can't be fair!" exasperated murmurings of agreement ripple throughout the rest of the senators, except for dakota who rises from his seat instead.

"with the way we kicked your _podex_ last night, i'd say the fifth has proved itself more capable than you."

"that is enough, centurion dakota. you may discuss the state of larry's _podex_ after the senate meeting." reyna cuts in, the senators falling silent as she speaks. dakota shows almost no amount of deference towards any other authority in the legion, not since the former centurions of the fifth who had practically raised him, but even he settles immediately and takes his seat again.

reyna is an obvious exception to his frequent disregard. reyna gets his sincere, professional respect. maybe it's because underneath his air of carelessness and hedonism, reyna sees that he puts it on for show— because it is what they expect from the fifth and the less octavian considers someone a threat, the better. the praetor knows he's actually incredibly capable and reliable, loyal to his cohort and loyal to reyna. friends is a weird word for it, but coworker doesn't fit right either. sure, they spent a lot of time together grinding through the same administrative bullshit, but it goes deeper than that. especially considering the months spent trying to find jason, they’ve forged something there. something based on mutual respect and camaraderie, without all the useless fluff.

"have we all forgotten frank zhang is not a full member of the legion?" another ghost cries out. "unbelievable! back in my day—"

"it is the will of _mars ultor_. we will not go against the wishes of the gods, even if it means making some... adjustments." with a clap of her hands, reyna calls octavian forth who brings with him a velvet package and gestures for frank to come forward.

"i bestow upon frank zhang the mural crown for being the first over the wall in siege warfare. and, by order of praetor reyna, you are promoted to the rank of centurion." he sneers as he hands frank both badges. reyna seethes silently at the podium, watching octavian silence the protesting senators with his cunning words. he is conniving as ever, playing the role of roman soldier who has no choice but to support reyna's decisions, even if things could've been done much more sensibly under _his_ command. octavian has been a pain in reyna's _podex_ for as long as she's been praetor ( even before that, really ) for this very reason. always so convincing, manipulative with his words. if things go wrong, the blame will fall on her shoulders as do all the burdens of rome. and octavian will be there, waiting to gather the favor she has lost. 

"in times such as these, we must bend a few rules in order to stay align with others." it's a sentiment reyna isn't totally excited about herself, but one she must follow either way. "and we have an opening for centurion needing to be filled. after ten years of service to the legion, centurion gwen has decided to step down. she will retire to the city and attend college. _ave_ , gwen of the fifth cohort. we thank you for your service to the legion." 

the rest of the senators look to gwen, who seems to barely be hiding her own relief. gwen has been a centurion for almost as long as reyna’s been at camp. a familiar face within the legion and a calm, positive energy despite the lot she and the fifth have been given. it’s hard for reyna to not try to convince her to stay, even without an impending war on their hands and every experienced body counting. gwen is just one of those people you always want around, a sunny disposition even when things look grim.

"i will admit it is unusual, but under these circumstances we will do what we must. frank zhang, your ID, please." reyna calls, watching as he removes his _probatio_ tablet and hands it over to octavian who is already waiting to grasp his forearm.

"we accept frank zhang, son of mars, to the twelfth legion fulminata for his first year of service. do you pledge your life to the senate and people of rome?" octavian asks and at first, he's only met with a small muttering on frank's part. reyna nearly winces as she starts to regret her own decision, but frank manages to clear his throat and give a more confident, "i do."

the senate building echoes with shouts of, " _senatus populusque romanus!_ " by all the senators and _lares_ present. fire blazes on frank's forearm like a mini flash bomb, burning bright and hot. reyna can see he's holding his breath to keep from gasping at the pain. when the smoke and flame fade away, fresh marks are branded in his skin: SPQR and an image of crossed spears, along with a single stripe. frank returns to his seat to the sound of senators shifting uncomfortably and whispering, still upset about the whole ordeal which octavian's attitude was not helping.

reyna calls attention once again. "now, to discuss the quest."

"what is your plan for your quest?" octavian butts in, still wearing a snide grin. "do you even know where you're going?"

hazel rises from her seat, defiance in her gaze as she meets octavian's narrowed eyes. "mars was quite clear on that. we must go to the land beyond the gods. we must go to alaska." most the senators squirm in their seats, some of the _lares_ shimmer and disappear. aurum and argentum whine at reyna's side.

another senator stands. "we know what mars said, but that's crazy. we all know alaska is cursed. the gods have no power there and it's swarming with monsters. it's a suicide mission. not a single demigod has ever returned from alaska alive since the 1980s."

reyna rises from her seat at the front of the room, listening to the senators bicker back and forth before raising a hand. "it is the will of the gods. as _mars ultor_ said: it is the land where the legion lost its honor. the fates have given us an opportunity to restore that honor."

dakota nods thoughtfully, showing reyna reverence and waiting until she's finished speaking. "thirty years ago, the fifth cohort messed up big time. now is the chance for our redemption."

octavian snickers, as if the idea of redemption for the fifth cohort was ridiculous. "really, praetor, how could they possibly do all this? make it to alaska and unchain this god, all while making it back in time for the feast of fortuna? that's in four days. does anyone have that much faith in the fifth?"

reyna pays him no mind— she has never been swayed by octavian's words the same way others are. she's always been able to see right through his saccharine show, revealing the manipulative and power-hungry boy beneath.

"do you even know where to look? or who this son of gaea is?" his question is directed at the questers now, after seeing that reyna will not take his bait.

hazel rolls her eyes, as if to say _oh, so you were listening_. "i have a pretty good idea of where to look. as for gaea's son, he is a giant named alcyoneus."

the temperature of the room seems to drop to below freezing or maybe that's just the chill reyna feels in her bones at the mention of the giant's name. but then she sees some of the other senators shiver, notices the _lares_ glowing blue rather than purple, and she knows it's not just her. she grips the podium as the room around them begins to return to normal, warming itself back into a hot summer day. "and you know this how? as a child of pluto?"

before hazel can answer, nico di angelo stands from the corner of the senate seats. his black toga and pale, gaunt appearance made him nearly blend into the shadows. he'd been looking sickly ever since the pyre, like he too had been burned up in its flames. 

"praetor, if i may." he begins, his voice weak and hoarse. "my sister and i learned a bit about the giants from our father. each of the giants was made specifically to oppose one of the twelve olympian gods, born to usurp that god's domain. the eldest giant was alcyoneus, born to oppose pluto. that's why we know of him in particular."

"indeed?" reyna's eyebrows rise a few centimeters. she wants to trust nico— no one else in camp jupiter does, besides hazel, but many things about him make that a difficult thing to do: the way he just appeared one day out of nowhere, how he's had direct conversations with his godly parent, the shock and recognition in his face when they had brought percy jackson before the senate. all things that unsettled reyna, on top of the impressive air of mystery the young demigod possesses. "you sound quite familiar with him, ambassador."

nico shifts uncomfortably in his toga, picking at its frayed edges. he is uneasy under the stares of all the senators. "the giants were hard to kill. according to prophecy, they could only be defeated by gods and demigods working together."

most the senators scoff and even dakota lets out a snort of laughter. "gods and demigods fighting side by side?" he asks. "like that could ever happen."

"but it has, in the first giant war." nico insists, only looking to reyna. "whether it could happen again, i don't know. but i know alcyoneus was impossible to kill by god or demigod so long as he remained in the place he was born. there, he was completely immortal. so, if he has been reborn in alaska—"

"then he cannot be defeated there." hazel finishes. "not by any means, which is why the expedition in the 1980's was doomed from the start."

"so, you admit the quest is impossible?" octavian questions, inciting more uproar from the senators.

"silence!" reyna calls, growing tired of the constant bickering. "senators, we must act like romans. mars has given us this quest, so we must believe it to be possible. these three demigods will travel to alaska. they will free thanatos and return before the feast of fortuna. if they can retrieve the lost eagle in the process, that is all the better. all we can do is counsel them and make sure they have a plan." she looks to the three questers, nearly wincing as she braces herself for the answer to her question. "you three... do have a plan, correct?"

bobby speaks up for the first time. "we get to alaska as fast as we can. which won't be a problem as i bear my father's blessing. speed is kind of his thing, you know."

"and then we improvise." hazel finishes for him, with as much confidence as someone can have saying such a thing.

"a lot. we improvise a lot." frank adds.

reyna wants to put her head in her hands, but she settles for twisting the silver ring on her finger instead. things are looking very grim. if anything about this quest goes wrong, she may as well write her own letter of termination— and her own obituary, for that matter. "very well. then there are no other matters to discuss except what level of support we can give the quest, be that transportation, money, magic, and weapons."

bobby wears a smirk that matches that of his half-siblings, mischief in his eyes he no doubt inherited from his father. "i take it we can't take hannibal along with us?"

his question is left ignored with octavian's interruption. "praetor, if i may. our camp is in grave danger. not one, but two gods have warned us of an attack in four days. we must not spread our resources too thin. it would be unwise to pour too much of the little we have available into a quest which already has the odds stacked against it. lord mars did not order a large expedition, nor did he ask us to fund their adventure. i'd say he even carefully selected these candidates, perhaps the ones he considers most expendable. we must keep our resources here and defend the camp. this is the legacy of rome, after all. the battle will be lost or won here. if these three are successful, that is wonderful! but they should do it by their own merits." 

the senators talks amongst themselves. some nod their heads in agreement, though dakota's expression uncharacteristically dour. frank looks like his head is about to explode as he stares daggers into octavian's back, hazel's hand on his forearm barely reigning him in; maybe he is a son of mars, after all.

"at the very least, provide us transportation. going overland will be too dangerous, with gaea being the earth goddess."

the blond boy laughs. "are you suggesting we charter you an airplane?"

"it is a reasonable request, octavian." reyna says sternly. "and providing no other aid seems very—"

"it's tradition, praetor! very traditional. if these questers are true romans, then they will have the strength to survive without our help!"

the room grows silent as the senators' eyes bounce back and forth between octavian and reyna, who are glaring at each other like cats about to fight. she wishes they could settle this like warriors, with daggers rather than cutting remarks, and end this once and for all. the silver and gold dogs leer at octavian as reyna straightens in her chair.

"very well." she says, after a tense moment. "we shall vote on it now. the motion is as follows: the quest shall go to alaska. the senate shall provide access to transportation via air travel. no other aid will be forthcoming. the three questers will survive or fail on their own merits. all in favor?"

every single senator's hand shot up.

reyna sighs, careful to keep her shoulders from slumping in just the slightest. "the motion has passed. centurion frank, your party is excused. go and prepare yourselves for your departure. the senate has other matters to discuss."

she watches the questers leave, but not before she can send octavian running after them to deliver a message: frank is to meet her in the _principia_ in an hour's time.

the meeting continues on and the senate begins their discussion on how to best prepare for the assault on camp jupiter.

* * *

“you leave first thing after lunch and there are a few matters for us to discuss.“ reyna says walking briskly into the _principia_ , now changed into her regular camp clothes – which for reyna, includes her full set of decorated roman armor and a purple mantle billowing behind her.

frank straightens immediately, having been slouched with his hands in his pockets as he waited for the praetor to meet him in the _principia_. “hey, reyna. octavian said you had something to give me?“

the praetor nods. “i wish i could give you more, but the least i can do is this. your journey will take you to seattle. you have a layover there. i’m asking you for a favor, but it may also help you in the end. i ask that you find my older sister, hylla.“

“you have a sister?“ frank asks, nonplussed. reyna shoots him a look but says nothing. now isn’t the time to be getting into family matters. frank ducks his head immediately, obviously taking the hint.

“show her this ring as a token from me. she may help you.“ reyna takes the silver ring from her finger and places it in frank’s hand. he looks at it, examining the engraved torch design before slipping it onto his pinky.

“i haven’t heard from her in weeks. everything from her has gone dark. whether that is of her own volition or an enemy tampering with our communications, i can’t be sure. but if she knew what is to happen in a few days, she may send help our way.“

frank nods. “i’ll check on your sister, reyna. and i’ll try to convince her to send help.“

reyna is accustomed to hiding her worry well but in jason’s absence, the stress of things have become more and more impossible to deal with. if the reassuring smile on frank’s face is anything to go off of, her stoic front must be beginning to crumble. it always starts in her eyes, where even the hard set of her brow can’t disguise the building worry that what she’s doing is not enough. it’s time to cut this meeting short.

she takes a seat in her high-backed praetor chair, feeling tired but trying not to show it. reyna feels as if she is on an island, alone, within a sea of individuals who look to her for help, or else are waiting for her to falter. finding those she can trust, those she can let on her island, is a difficult thing. their relationship may be strenuous, they may not have seen each other in years but right now, all reyna really wants is her sister.

“good hunting, frank zhang. and thank you.“ the mask slips off for just a moment as she dismisses frank. he deserves such genuine gratitude without pretenses for what he’s about to do.

frank gives a salute and starts to walk away, his steps faltering the closer he gets to the door. he stops in his tracks at the doorway, turning to face reyna.

“you have something you wish to say, centurion.“ it is not a question. it’s something she can read off of frank, in the way he hesitates towards the door, the concern in his gaze.

“praetor, if i may…“ he falters for a moment, as if wondering if it’s his place to say something. “it’s just… that boy who came to camp with juno. he… and hazel mentioned something about a son of neptune… i just– i just don’t know if it was the right thing to do.“

reyna sits with her arm leaning on the armrest, hand supporting her chin and not meeting frank’s gaze. rather she stares into the wall of the _principia_ with furrowed brows, looking faraway and thinking of sea-green eyes. a sick feeling burns in the pit of her stomach, a sad-sick feeling, the same sad-sick feeling that kept her up the night before. a boy is dead now and his blood cannot be washed from her hands. even if it feels more the augur's doing than her own, even if that blond snake had forced her hands, grabbed them and plunged them into that pool of red along with his. she bears the burden of this decision and knowing octavian's way with words and his apparent lack of consciousness, she will bear it alone.

“octavian thought him a spy sent by gaea as a distraction. an enemy that would find our weaknesses and exploit them. he claims his auguries confirmed that… confirmed the old legends about the greeks.“

“old legends?“ franks asks.

"that they still exist. and the history of greek and roman demigods has always been drenched in blood— civil wars, bloodshed beyond belief. octavian believes they are still around and plotting against us, working with the forces of gaea to bring about the downfall of rome. his auguries showed that boy to be one of them. and for that, he had to die.“

“is that what you believe?“

reyna snaps her eyes to the son of mars for such a bold question, but she doesn’t let her indignance show for too long. eventually, her eyes soften, and she stares out again into the wall past frank, thinking.

“he came from somewhere.“ she finally says. “whether he came as a friend or a foe, no one can be sure of that now. i thought that maybe he had been sent– well, that doesn’t matter anymore.“ she stops herself with a shake of her head. she had foolishly thought that he had been sent to make up for jason’s absence. one powerful demigod for another, to fill the spaces left by the loss of the son of jupiter.“ what is done is done. you should go, focus on the quest at hand. good luck, frank zhang.“

frank says nothing as he exits, leaving reyna to gather the last threads of her façade of forced bravado.

later, reyna gives a brief speech wishing them luck. the entrails of octavian’s latest augury, an unfortunate hedgehog beanie baby, foresees difficult times ahead and dark, doom-filled omens but that the camp would be saved by an unexpected hero. the legion breaks ranks but reyna stays behind to watch the three questers ride hannibal to the border of the valley. the elephant returns twenty minutes later, demigod-less. reyna didn’t know it was possible for an elephant to look so sad, but bobby was practically his sole caretaker and best friend, so she can hardly blame him.

a heavy trunk drops onto reyna’s shoulder and she gives the elephant a comforting pat as the two of them stare out into the distance, thinking of three demigods who hold the fate of camp in their hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> people making pjo hot takes: ugh percy and annabeth should not have been part of the seven!!!!  
> me, evil: i can fix that :)
> 
> starting this with the intention of it being a reynabeth enemies to lovers (to enemies again?) fic while also being a HoO rewrite where romans + greeks work together but also percy dies but also-


	2. bitter work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hooray for monthly updates!! thank you all for checking this out and staying with it. comments and kudos are appreciated but not necessary! enjoy :)

all reyna can do in the meantime is prepare camp jupiter for the worst. it's difficult enough without having to go to the senate for approval on every little thing that needs to be done, every plan that needs to be made. reyna makes good use of her position as praetor to bypass a few proposals, citing oncoming war as her reason for doing so. no one dares argue with her, not even octavian, once they sit in the wake of her wolf stare which is fierce and intense as she runs ragged on less and less sleep. she can only hope they want to save this camp as much as she does, so this doesn't make them look upon her unfavorably. 

they work on shoring up the camp's defenses, draw out battle strategies by the hundreds. it’s sometimes difficult to do these things under the harsh, almost frenzied gaze of dakota, and reyna understands his anger. she’s frustrated too at having to allocate resources away from the search for jason, but they just can’t spare the eagles. patrols are increased around the borders, keeping a watchful eye as the rest of the legion works on building up protective walls and fortifying the ones they have. magic is one thing, but if 20-foot walls of volcanic rock can stall a wave of monsters for even a few minutes, it is all the better. with quests such as these, every second counts. reyna tries to continue drills as normal though she is cautious. she wants her legion sharp without exhausting them.

when reyna isn't out overseeing campers, she's at her desk writing letter after letter to retired members of the legion. it's borderline begging, as close as she can professionally get to that, really. but she's desperate to save her home and she's not above beseeching them to come to camp jupiter's aid if they are able to. at the very least, she asks that they send whatever form of help they can and spread word of reyna's cause. the time she spends reading through the replies feels almost wasteful when she only has a handful of veterans who have pledged to return for the battle. by far the most interesting letter is one sealed with black wax, stamped with a skull, and its contents containing the almost sloppy handwriting of the ambassador of pluto. _i am going to rome to search for the doors. i’ve already told my sister. she’ll know what to do when she gets back._

reyna even goes so far as to spend a few hours in the streets of new rome, going door to door to appeal to those recently graduated, the former campers that live in the city. she stays away from the ones with children, though — she knows better than to let war pull a family apart. 

and she spends perhaps a bit too much time in her mother's temple. after drills are done for the day and plans are finalized, reyna can be seen taking a solemn hike up the steep eminence of temple hill, which is soaked in the orange glow of the setting sun. she enters the small red building on the northern side. it's nothing particularly impressive, like the devotion they have for lord jupiter, but it's still a dignified and commendable construction. bellona is the goddess of protecting the homeland, after all, and that is what reyna intends to do.

her mother has never sent her any sort of sign, much less spoken to her, as is expected of their godly parents. and still, reyna finds comfort in the temple of bellona. something about sitting beside her mother's statue makes it easier for reyna to pretend that her mother is listening.

the statue stands at the head of the temple; she is clad in armor and a plumed helmet, both accentuated with golden detailing. a spear in one hand and a shield in the other. a series of torches surround the upper half of the statue in a half-circle and burn eternally — at least, they've been burning for as long as camp jupiter has been founded. additionally, a stone basin lies at her feet, ready to accept more offerings. the thud of reyna's boots echo across the marble flooring as she approaches the patch of dirt that sits in the center of the temple, illuminated by sunlight from an opening in the ceiling and making the ground warm there. she kneels beside it, pressing her fingers into the earth. the spear has not yet been thrown.

reyna does not ask for her mother's help. she never has. romans are all about teamwork but asking for godly aid is not the roman way, nor is it reyna's. everything she has ever accomplished she has done by her own efforts and talents. she can fight her own battles.

but she can also sit here and talk through her plans out loud with only her mother's statue as an audience, and it always seems to help.

she tosses a few pastries into the offering bowl before she leaves, small and plain sugar cookies baked into the shape of sheep, cows, pigs. it’s an animal sacrifice by proxy; camp jupiter hasn’t performed proper animal sacrifice in decades, but they haven’t seemed to lose favor with the gods in any particularly noticeable way, so such practices have been effectively replaced. bloodless offerings are more traditional anyway. the baked goods join the other offerings laid by reyna in the past few days and weeks. soon, they will be burnt on a ritual fire so the smoke can rise up to olympus and be of little consequence to the gods.

though she cannot say they are completely without divine assistance. lupa is fighting the giant's forces as much as she can, but reyna knows better than to expect too much from them. the wolves will slow the army, at best, but they are not front-line attackers. nor is lupa interested in losing too many members of her pack. when the time comes, the legion will be left on their own. conquer or die on their own. they can either be predator or prey and lupa cannot be a deciding factor in which they end up as. and sometimes, though she does not leave the forest, reyna can see her in the shadows. the wolf goddess sits on the outskirts, snarling and glaring as if she knows something reyna doesn't. again, reyna is left to wonder if the choices they’ve made have been the right ones.

* * *

the days leading up to the feast of fortuna are long and grueling as she carefully walks the tightrope between preparing her troops and not inciting panic. reyna doesn't stop working or worrying until she lays down each night for a restless sleep.

most of the time, she can control her dreams, but nightmares disturb her any chance they get as she pushes through with this week of bitter work.

demigod dreams can be very cruel, so she has trained her mind to start all her dreams in her favorite place— the garden of bacchus. it was a good place for solitude, a bit too out of the way for the city's pedestrians to add it to their usual routes. it's always been a safe place for reyna, a place where she could clear her head. and it was easier to control her dreams if she could imagine them as reflections in the fountain's water. they couldn't hurt her there, not when she can splash away any images that threaten a good night's sleep.

but she isn't always so lucky, and the stress of an oncoming war has made it more difficult to keep the nightmares at bay.

her dreams start out like they always do. she's leaning against one of the low garden walls, looking down at the golden domes and red-roofed tiles of new rome. stone-lined streets all throughout the city are filled with its inhabitants as they go about their daily errands. to the west, she can make out the fortifications of camp jupiter and just beyond that, the little tiber curves around the valley. reyna has loved this city since the moment she laid eyes on it, since she understood that her heart wanted a home more than it wanted power and yet, somehow both had found her here. it's not perfect, but it's full of people who care. people who depend on her.

reyna watches with a content smile and she thinks she can spot aurum and argentum in the distance, running along one of the cobblestone streets as flock of children chase them playfully.

but then the earth starts to open up beneath her.

she's had this dream before. she's had it many times. she knows what will happen next.

she will be nine years old again. and then her father is standing over her, terrifying and tyrannical. she slices his own sword right through his murderous gaze and then he disintegrates into nothing. the sword suddenly becomes too heavy in her hands, falling until it splits the ground beneath her. ghosts come crawling out and before she can react, the spectral hands of her ancestors are wrapping around her ankles and clutching at her clothes. dragging her in, deeper and deeper below the earth and she’s trying desperately to claw and tear her way out. her fingers are raw and bleeding, nails breaking as she cries and screams and kicks to keep from being pulled under. her attempts to escape futile. the earth swallows her.

she's had this dream before. she knows how to control it.

but the apparition of her father never shows. the sword never appears in her hands. the ground beneath her starts to break anyway.

in the distance, she sees a tidal wave of earth start to swallow the valley. the wave descends on the city like a tsunami, disintegrating it into nothing. screams are silenced in seconds as the earth moves on. the earth mother continues her assault, obliterating watchtowers and walls. the _principia_ crumbles. it's like the senate house had never existed. families and children run only to disappear into a sea of dirt. and reyna is the last one standing, forced to watch helplessly as the people and the city she loves is destroyed before she too is overcome by an earthen tide. the gardens around her crumble underfoot and the earth consumes her.

she would rather face her father over and over than have to watch this.

reyna doesn't know what to do with these premonitions, other than prepare her troops to the best of her ability and hope against all hope that frank, hazel, and bobby are close to completing their quest.

and she doesn't know what to do when sometimes in her dreams, the earth does not devour them, but instead all she can see is percy's face. looking into the water does not help. she is only met with the reflection of his saltwater smile which rematerializes whenever she tries to splash it away. he does not seem to taunt her, like some of the other ghosts of her past do, but she wakes up feeling guilty anyway. she puts on a strong face the next day and tries to be a better roman.

* * *

the roman bathhouse is a reprieve from the reality of war, but reyna only has time to take advantage of its comforts just once in the days that lead up to the feast of fortuna. a cold shower suffices for the rest of the week, both to wash away the grime and to jolt her body into staying awake after long days of preparing camp and long nights of drawing plans.

the bathhouse is a lavish structure built to reflect its importance in ancient roman culture, but also in keeping their modern roman legion from stinking worse than a hellhound's breath. it's built over a natural hot springs and cleaned twice a day by whatever cohort has that duty this rotation. it’s not a chore reyna has ever been envious of and one she’s glad to be rid of since taking up the mantle of praetor.

the great bath follows the front locker room, steam hovering above the water and an open roof exposing whoever dwells within it to the sky. pillars line the pool, spaced far enough that one can look into the surrounding hallways and see stuccoed walls, some decorated with marbled mosaics. a large portrayal of romulus and remus with their wolf mother decorates the western wall, their story told in the medium of glass and tile stuck into mortar. the images continue down the corridor, roman heroes and leaders memorialized through tiled floors and wall decorum.

reyna passes over the pool in favor of the _caldarium_ , a much more private room able to provide the peace she needs. a damp haze fills the room as opposed to floating just above the water's surface. it's thickest above a circular pool the size of a modest hot tub with lanterns and incense burning around it. here, she can hide herself in the sweet-smelling fog for an hour or so before heading back into a world where all eyes look to her. she closes her eyes and sinks into the water, down to the nose so she can focus solely on the sound of water trickling into her ears.

“reyna?”

the voice catches the praetor by surprise, but not as much as the shimmering visage of hazel peering through the haze of the bathhouse steam scares her out of her mind. the daughter of the death god’s sheepish expression flickers in a rainbow formed in the mist rising from the water.

“pluto’s pants, hazel!” reyna exclaims, falling back into the water and covering her chest.

“sorry, reyna! sorry. if this is a bad time i can–“

“no, no. it’s alright.” reyna cuts in, recovering as much composure as she can in this situation. she wipes away a bit of hair that has fallen in her face. “i’m just… surprised to see you and unfamiliar with this type of magic. how did you discover this?”

she’s tempted to reach out, run a hand through the hovering image but something tells her not to.

“ah, it’s a long story. emergency plane landing followed by meeting a goddess and her assistant which, by the way, did you know bobby can fly planes? his dad’s blessing or something. anyway, she taught us how to talk through rainbows.”

“right.” reyna says slowly, the initial shock beginning to subside. it’s replaced by the relief of seeing hazel alive still which, with the quest she is on, is as good a sign as reyna could hope for. she’s cautious in her optimism, but perhaps this means all is not lost. “that’s certainly an invaluable development. this is much faster than eagles.”

hazel nods. “exactly. i’ll explain how it works later but listen, reyna. it’s– it’s _bad_. there’s an army of monsters led by the giant polybotes only a few hundred miles north of camp. centaurs, cyclops, earthborn. there’s hundreds of them.”

reyna listens, leaning her head back against the edge of the bath. it’s nothing she doesn’t already know. this only confirms the worst of her suspicions and octavian’s vague but ominous auguries. it certainly does not inspire much confidence.

there’s a gleam in hazel’s dark eyes, as if the sight of a horde of monsters has only spurred her on, an outward sign of her determination. but reyna catches the furrow of her brow like that creeping bit of doubt that always manages to come through.

“if it is any consolation, this changes nothing.” reyna says. “five hundred monsters or five thousand, it doesn’t matter unless thanatos is freed.”

hazel doesn’t respond. they both know it is true. an onslaught of monsters of any size will be unbeatable while thanatos remains chained, granting them immunity from the permanence of death.

“focus on your mission. we’re strengthening our defenses as best we can. rest assured that camp jupiter will not go down without a fight.” it’s the best pep talk reyna can muster up in the moment. she thinks it’s pretty good, all things considering. “open the doors. retrieve the eagle. i have faith in you, hazel levesque.”

“thank you, reyna.” hazel says. “good luck.” and the last reyna sees of her is one of her thin hands swiping through the air and breaking through her own visage. the image fizzles into nothingness, the iridescent gleam of rainbow light vanishing into the thick steam filling the room.

reyna sinks until her head is under the water.

* * *

jason’s appearance in her dreams is nothing completely out of the ordinary, not since he’s disappeared. sometimes it felt as if she was able to will his presence into her dreams, like it was a way to cope with the loss over the past eight months. they sit together on the low garden wall overseeing the city, making jokes and flicking bits of crumpled leaves at each other. she laughs quietly into her hot chocolate and he smiles that smile that feels like it’s meant only for her. a smile you share with someone who knows your burdens and helps you bear them, someone who has to put on the same mask as you.

but this dream, these dreams, feel different. the calm and quiet she feels in his presence is gone, replaced by a sense of urgency. these are not the reflections and echoes of the memories they’ve shared; complaints about the senate, plans of making things better in new rome, dreams of ending the cycle of childhood violence that plagues camp jupiter.

they don’t sit on the garden wall. reyna stands before the fountain, like she always does, but a giant warship hovers a mile above her. it’s massive, a bronze hull fronted by the head of a dragon. the mast head snorts out a bit of fire and all reyna can do is stand in the shadow of this massive trireme.

leaning over the edge of the ship is jason. he’s far from her, but she’d recognize his stature, his shock of blond hair anywhere.

she tries calling out for him, but he doesn’t respond. he hardly reacts, as if he cannot hear her. his gaze remains set on the sight of the camp’s destruction. the earth swallows the city, toppling buildings and smothering its citizens with dirt. a group of people reyna doesn’t recognize, wearing the same orange shirt the greek boy wore, draw close to him. they put a hand on his shoulder, hug him around his waist. and then jason turns, heading back on the ship so that reyna can no longer see him.

reyna can’t be sure what this dream, or any of the other uncontrollable dreams she’s had in the past week, means. are they premonitions? or simply reflections of the waning control she feels in her life, a simple manifestation of the distance she feels from jason as the unlikelihood of his return grows?

she doesn’t know and with the feast of fortuna a day away, it’s not something she can spare much thought. but the images hang in the back of her mind. that fearsome warship, not roman in design and hovering dangerously above the city as it is turned to rubble. a group of individuals wearing the same, albeit less tattered orange shirt as percy jackson. what does it mean to see a foreign ship bearing their lost praetor? reyna tries to hope against all hopes that it means jason is coming back. but she will wait for a less dire hour to share these visions with the senate. if they all live to see past the feast of fortuna, it can be interpreted then.

* * *

on the morning of the feast of fortuna, the legion is restless, skittish like a cornered animal. still, they work seamlessly and intentionally throughout the day to bolster up the last of their defenses. rome’s army is fully outfitted for war by noon.

their eagles have been out for recon all day, tracking the giant army on their journey south towards camp. when only one eagle manages to limp its way back into camp as evening approaches, the romans know to begin forming their defenses. after the _onagers_ are set and the _scorpios_ are in place, reyna positions the legionnaires by cohort on the field of mars. the little tiber acts a natural protection for their left flank while the pomeranian line to the southeast gives them somewhere to retreat if necessary. reyna fully intends to hold their ground, however, keep the battle between the field of mars and the berkeley hills.

scipio is decked out in full armor of hardened leathers and durable iron plating. praetor and pegasus trot between the sea of foot soldiers and the line of siege engines, calling orders as the army beyond the hills grows closer.

they hear them before they see them, the grunts and the whooping and the thunderous steps of a thousand creatures is the sign that spurs them into action. when they see the first wave of monsters start to run into the valley, barreling towards the reinforced walls the legion had built up, their siege weapons are already set to fire.

twenty or so screaming centaurs and half a dozen earthborn lead the initial charge and then suddenly monsters are pouring into the valley. it’s reminiscent of the battle at mount othrys but this time, the romans are the ones on the defense.

at reyna’s call, a volley of shots are catapulted from the _onagers_ followed by support fire from the _scorpios_ and their few roman archers. dozens of monsters are vanquished to dust, but the horde is unperturbed by their fallen foes.

“romans! tighten your shield wall! do not break ranks!” are reyna’s last orders to the legion at large before taking flight. the sound of rushing wind fills her ears as scipio’s sturdy form carries the two of them into the air, but reyna can just make out the calls of a few centurions as she takes off.

the third and fourth cohort begin marching forward and reyna watches as the first wave of monsters slam into their shield wall. another wave approaches and the field descends into mayhem.

reyna flies overhead the legion, her arm burning white-hot as she bears the brunt of the legion’s burden. all their fear, their anger, their grief washes over her a hundredfold. she adjusts to the foreign feelings that hang heavy in her chest, but reyna is used to this by now. she’s used to being the pillar her legion leans on.

just when the weight on her shoulders begins to level out, once she finally finishes making room for emotions that are not her own, she feels the collective blood of the legion run cold. then she sees him start to climb over the ridge. the giant, polybotes.

dozens of monsters swarm around his scaled legs, thirty feet below the giant’s grotesque face. he’s barely human, would hardly resemble one were it not for the wild and green hair sitting upon his head. it falls around his face in thick and messy matts, deploying venomous snakes with each shake of his head. the reptilian giant wears blue-green armor which is twisted into the shape of monstrous faces. each hellish face decorating his armor has its mouth open wide as if preparing to devour an unlucky legionnaire or in other cases, as if it is trapped in an eternal scream. in one hand he holds a massive trident. in the other, a weighted net.

reyna has battled such combatants before in the colosseum. _retiarii_ , a sneaky and underhanded combat style. she knows how to counter them though facing one of this size and power, that all means nothing.

the advantage of the _retiarius_ is their speed; lightly armored warriors that rely on outpacing and outlasting their more heavily armored opponents. but reyna trusts scipio, trusts him to be agile and evasive, and believes that is where her advantages lie. she only has to do two things: avoid his net and keep from being swept up in a heaving stab of that trident. her only choice is close combat.

if there’s to be any hope, reyna must confront him alone. keep him distracted while the legion holds against the army of monsters still trickling into the valley. she kicks into scipio’s side, spurring him forward to face the giant with only her spear in hand.

he's even more repulsive up close, a venomous face as large as scipio’s entire body. the giant laughs when his vile yellow eyes spot reyna on her approach.

“come, praetor! meet your end.”

reyna ignores his heckling, pressing her body close to scipio’s neck. the giant takes a swat at the pair of them, as if they were some oversized and very irksome fly, but a swift beat of scipio’s wings pushes them underneath his sweeping arm and allows reyna to take a stab at the giant’s exposed underarm. scipio whinnies as they pull around to attempt to strike again.

the two work in tandem, dodging and whirling and whipping through the air to avoid the giant’s attacks. they’re not so much a well-oiled machine as they are just a girl and her pegasus. impeccable teamwork afforded through a genuine connection. no owner or owned, master or pet. just mutual love forming an unyielding bond.

the giant roars in anger as reyna covers him in countless wounds. golden ichor drips from every stab and scratch, but he hardly slows in his attack. they seem to have no other effect than irking the giant and keeping his eye drawn to reyna.

that is fine with her. reyna stays on the defensive, battling both the giant and fatigue from the burden of the legion’s pain. she and scipio play the role of nimble mouse avoiding the cruel cat’s claws– or in this case, trident. anything to keep his attention drawn to her while her friends below hold themselves against that massive army.

she pulls away for a brief moment to survey the battle. the _scorpios’_ fire on incoming ranks of monsters has been continuous though their stockpile of munitions is nearly depleted. on the other side of the sea of enemies, hannibal plows entire lines of monsters into dust. shades battle shades as the _lares_ maintain a circle around a mass of black shadows. the harsh violet shimmer of the roman ghosts contrasts heavily with the ancient, spectral warriors.

veteran demigods from the city had entered the fray to outflank the monster army, forming their own cohort of sorts. their _testudo_ formation is tight as ever as they withstand an onslaught of whooping centaurs. no length of retirement can wash away the intense training provided at camp jupiter, remove that muscle memory built over ten years of service.

giant eagles circle overhead, dropping rocks on the heads of monsters between pecks and divebombing the snake-haired gorgan sisters who had taken to aerial combat.

but despite all their aid and the homefield advantage, reyna can see the situation is dire. everywhere she looks the legion is breaking formation. each cohort finds itself an island in a sea of monsters, helpless to do anything but lock their shields and slay their enemies as they come.

the cyclopes’ siege tower continues its assault on the city, firing glowing green cannonballs that leave craters in the nearest quarter of the city. from her perch, reyna can see houses in ruins and the half-collapsed dome of the senate house.

she returns her focus to slowing the giant leader. below, she sees the beaten shields of the first and second cohorts, having successfully circled the giant thanks to reyna’s distraction. but they’re still taking a pounding from the circle of monsters that surround them. stone and mud thunder against the shield wall of the outer ring of romans while the others stab at polybotes’ ankles and fight off invading _karpoi_ grain spirits.

as reyna continues lunging toward the giant, the stab of her spear sends the occasional basilisk falling from polybotes’ head. she hears the screams of her legionnaires that follow, leaving behind corroded shields and melting armor as they retreat. she continues her attack on the giant as the ground troops dwindle from thirty romans, to twenty, to fifteen as more and more takeoff running.

reyna swears under her breath, diving in again with her spear to keep the giant’s attention away from her retreating troops. her purple cloak whips around her, snapping in the wind as she and scipio dodge a heavy swing of the giant’s trident.

over the din of the battle, something that sounds awfully close to cheering reaches her ears. reyna ducks behind another one of polybotes’ attempts to snare her in his net and turns to see what’s going on.

it’s the most bizarre reinforcement reyna has ever seen. hazel rides in upon a caramel-colored horse, visible for just a moment before they turn into a dark blur only noticeable by the trail of monster dust they leave behind. an elephant even larger than hannibal follows, pulling a massive chariot just brimming with golden weapons. bobby sits at the back of the chariot, tossing out armor and weapons to nearby romans as the elephant barrels through a mess of monsters.

the odd pairing charges into the center of the field and reyna nearly falls off scipio because over the course of a few seconds, she watches the elephant transform into one frank zhang. not only that, but the centurion also bears the golden eagle lost to the legion all those years ago and with a thunderous boom that shakes the entire valley, frank hoists up the standard.

thousands of tendrils of lightning explode from the eagle’s golden wings. the bolts arc in all different direction; above, below, and each surrounding side striking monster after monster as the lightning chains between them and leaves nothing but ash. the center line of the monsters has been obliterated leaving only dust in its wake. reyna is so happy she could cry, locking eyes with frank and giving him a relieved smile.

scipio dodges, catching reyna off guard and sending them barrel-rolling out of the giant’s way as he roars with frustration and calls upon another wave of monsters. but a fourth of his troops have been demolished and for now, they remain dust.

“romans!” reyna shouts, grinning as her voice booms across the field. “rally to the eagle!”

she dives down on scipio at breakneck speed. the pegasus nearly plummets into the ground, pulling up just in time to swoop up and around to the newly returned questers.

“nice of you to join us.” she yells over the din to frank and bobby.

“happy to be here, praetor!” bobby replies, already making his way towards hannibal.

frank, still reeling from the aftershocks of channeling the eagle’s power, manages to give reyna a tired smile.

“here.” he says, holding the golden staff towards her. “this belongs with you.”

reyna sheaths her weapon and takes the standard in her hand. the moment it touches her skin, she can feel its power radiate within her body. it starts and stings at the palm of her hand before pumping through the entire surface area of her veins, leaving her feeling jolted, electrified. she wonders if this is how jason feels all the time.

“ _ave_ , centurion zhang.” reyna calls before taking to the sky once more.

the gorgan sisters, no longer occupied by the roman eagles, call orders in polybotes’ stead. they cease their attempts to rally the remaining monster army when they see reyna approach. the praetor is met with the hisses of a hundred snakes as the gorgons dive toward her with brandished claws, but reyna raises the golden eagle as they close in.

“twelfth legion fulminata!”

another deafening crack of thunder fills the valley and reyna is greeted by the smell of sulfur mixed the sharp, fresh aroma of ozone as lightning erupts from outstretched, golden wings. the gorgon sisters are eliminated in a blinding flash, reyna squinting as monster dust blows in her eyes, before watching the lightning arc down like electric rainfall and decimate another hundred monsters.

the legion is still in bad shape, as over half the giant’s army still pushes them back towards the pomeranian line but hope for victory is reflected in newly-recovered imperial gold. if only they can manage to overwhelm the giant or somehow rattle their enemies’ confidence more than the sight of the eagle standard already has.

to the north, war horns catch their attention. the two leaders look to the hills, greeted by the arrival of another army on the ridge. hundreds of warrior women dressed in grey-black camouflage bearing spears and shields spill into the valley.

the giant laughs. “don’t you see? our reinforcements from mother gaea have arrived! rome will fall today and its legacy with it.”

but over the hill climbs hylla, directing her forces to aid the romans and the smile is wiped from polybotes’ face as the amazons charge towards the monster army’s eastern flank. in this instance, all the bitterness and ambivalence reyna feels towards her sister is washed away by utter relief.

the battlefield devolves into pure chaos as the amazons join the wolfish children of rome in decimating any monsters that lay in their path. with the arrival of the amazons, their enemy’s army has dwindled down to a manageable fourth of what they originally had. the snarls and growls that had grown too familiar over the course of the battle are now reduced to pathetic whines as reyna watches much of the monster army break away in a hasty retreat.

“romans, advance! kill the giant, polybotes!” reyna calls, brandishing the eagle in the direction of the hateful giant. a swarm of demigods follow her order, leaving the remaining monsters for the amazons to vanquish as polybotes screams at what remains of his cowardly army.

“reyna! the pomeranian line!”

reyna looks down to find frank zhang waving his arms and pointing towards the city. she shakes her head, giving a confused look.

“godly aid, reyna. we need the help of a god!” and when she looks over, she sees the toppled statue of terminus he’s pointing to.

it takes a moment to click in her head, but when she finally understands what he means, an uncontrollable smile crosses her face. she has to remind herself that this is indeed frank zhang, gets stuck on the thought because he has certainly grown. far past the shy and clumsy _probatio_ he was but a week ago.

“take to the front of the ground troops. you know what to do, centurion.”

reyna flies in overhead the legion, directing troops to the north and south, funneling the giant closer and closer to the pomeranian line. she watches frank at the head of the charge, rallying the romans as a flurry of spears, daggers, and _denarii_ are chucked at the giant. reyna thinks she even sees someone’s _caliga_ flung at the giant’s head.

polybotes waves off the attacks easily with a heave of his weighted net, laughing and taunting the romans as he continues walking backwards, each step bringing him nearer the line that protects the city.

“eagle or not, i will crush you romans and your pathetic city.” polybotes mocks through gritted teeth. the cruel smile is still plastered on his face, but reyna can see the panic in his eyes as he backpedals faster.

“you shall all die by my hand. and you shall suffer until your last breath, haunted by your failures and the knowledge that the fall of rome is all your–“

reyna watches as his laughing face falls, a scaled foot landing on the fallen statue of terminus’ body which slips out from underneath him like a banana peel in one of those old cartoons she used to watch with hylla, when the neighbors would take pity on the two and let them hide out for a few hours. the giant trips backwards in an almost comedic way, greeted by the screams of terminus and a horde of legionnaires at his throat.

pools of golden ichor bloom around his body as the romans pummel the thrashing giant. reyna watches overhead as the legionnaires stab and slice at every exposed part of the giant’s body. that is, until frank emerges from the crowd bearing terminus’ still screaming head. the giant only has time to roar one last expletive before frank smashes the marble into his face. frank sinks elbow deep into a pile of sickening muck and seaweed, the only remains of the giant outside of his spoils of war: the massive trident and weighted net.

there’s silence as frank pulls his arms from the mud, wiping a bit off of terminus with his shirt.

and then the romans break out into deafening cheers, joined by the whooping calls from the amazons across the field. there’s laughing and shouting and trumpeting from hannibal and very distinct calls for, “a shield! a shield!”

the romans below crowd frank and he disappears into a sea of purple and gold before emerging again atop a golden shield, looking bewildered but grateful. reyna looks down with a pleased smile and raises the eagle standard in his honor. thunder booms throughout the valley, adding to the cheers and applause, and follows the trails of victorious warriors all the way back to new rome.

* * *

frank zhang, a praetor.

reyna mulls it over as they sit together at the praetors’ table. her new coworker already bears the same eagle medal and purple cloak she does, having been presented with the honors right before octavian opened the feast with an augury. he foresees good luck for the next year and, if the proud eagle standard humming with power behind them is anything to go by, reyna just might believe him.

frank zhang, a praetor. reyna finds she doesn't mind. it's out of the ordinary, but certainly more plausible than a total stranger taking the mantle. it's fitting, considering how much he seems to have grown during his quest and all he has accomplished for the camp in a few short days. and from reyna’s point of view, anyone is better than octavian. he even made a pretty decent speech after her own, in which she formally welcomed the amazons and thanked them for their aid.

for a son of war, he has a gentle face and a profound sense of duty that just can’t be taught. reyna is confident it will provide a welcome dichotomy to her own stern exterior. she has always been serious and unrelenting and in the absence of jason, who had smoothed some of her rougher edges, reyna has had to harden her heart. they will work together nicely, she thinks, and maybe bring about some proper change to camp jupiter if they can see to the end of this war.

the romans and amazon warriors mingle in the mess hall, enjoying the lavish feast that has been arranged. even the wounded and those tending to them are in good spirits. considering that a few of them had died, only to wake up in their bodies before there was even time to get a shroud, there is plenty to celebrate for.

tables are piled high with smoked meats and cheeses and breads of all kinds, fruits and sweets that are spread over purple table coverings embroidered with gold. reyna pulls from a bowl of honeyed dates absentmindedly, lounging back on the low sofa and watching over the festivities.

polybotes’ net has been fashioned into a makeshift hammock for the time being, with half a dozen romans lying in it as it hangs between the broken pillars of the mess hall. a few fauns wait for their turn in the net, their arms full of apples and pomegranates from one of the nearby cornucopias.

frank and reyna make casual conversation, mostly light-hearted commentary about the frequent amazon vs. roman arm-wrestling matches that can be observed throughout the hall. hazel approaches eventually, having finished her victory tour around the tables, with the rescued harpy in her wake. they had found her on the quest, and she followed them all the way back to camp jupiter. the bird-girl squawks something about 32 ways to win an arm-wrestling match before spiraling into incomprehensible muttering. they haven’t quite decided what they’re going to do with her, but with the way the harpy nervously clings to hazel’s side, she figures it might not be much of a choice.

reyna leaves them to discuss their matters privately.

even in the happy aftermath of victory, reyna can’t help but think of what will come next in this war with the giants. she thinks of jason aboard a warship and the greek boy with no memories and the dreams she still can’t explain. but it is hard to fixate on these things when even she is approached and embraced by legionnaires, pulled into their silly games and cheery conversations. she smiles with the senators, raises her glass and makes toasts with them to the gods, to the legion, to the praetors, to chelsea’s left _caliga_ which supposedly hit polybotes right in the eye.

hylla eventually pulls her away from overseeing a pretty intense game of gin rummy and fixes reyna with a concerned glance.

“you seemed agitated earlier. your camp is safe. you should be happy.”

they’re nearly the same height now, and maybe they would be if reyna just wore the same amazonian combat boots that hylla does. but reyna made her choice and hylla made hers, so perhaps there will always be that inch that separates them.

reyna wishes she had time to confide in hylla, or even the heart to do so, but it’s been so long since they’ve been like that and reyna knows it will take a lot more than just showing up to aid her at the last minute to go back to the way they were. there are still those old wounds that never really closed, making their relationship both thorny and tender and impossible for anyone else to understand.

“you don’t need to mother me, hylla.” and she nearly cringes at how much she sounds like a petulant teenager. maybe that’s why she and hylla always struggle to get along for very long. hylla has never stopped looking at her like the scared little girl she was in san juan, even when reyna has long since grown out of that.

she thinks of percy and of how pleased hylla would be to hear of his death. she had cursed his name just as many times as she had cursed blackbeard’s. her sister wouldn’t provide the sort of comfort reyna seeks, so she doesn’t say anything. he’s just another ghost that will haunt reyna alone.

“this war isn’t over yet. that’s all.”

hylla doesn’t look convinced but decides not to press any further. she gives reyna another tight hug before taking her leave for the night. the sun is going down and some of the citizens of new rome have already started the fireworks.

reyna doesn’t join the celebrations in the city. she’ll let the legionnaires have the night off without fear of running into their praetor in the midst of whatever shenanigans they get up to. she returns to the praetors’ table, rejoining frank and hazel. they greet her and go back to their conversation and reyna muses quietly, not really listening as she watches the small number of partiers that remained in the mess hall play around in the low-light.

she only casually observes as campers leave, paying little mind to the sleeping fauns and few loiterers that remain. even hazel takes off eventually to join the parties in the streets and maybe put the sleeping harpy to rest. but then a trio of legionnaires cross her field of vision and after they pass, a woman stands directly across from her at the other end of the room.

she wears a crown adorned with lilies and roses and a few peacock feathers, a spectacular arrangement that does not quite match the spear and shield in her hands. she gives off a grave and majestic air and that, along with the goatskin coat around her shoulders, is all reyna needs to know who she is.

“so, you’ve managed victory without the aid of neptune’s son. but in doing so, the road ahead has been made more difficult.” juno says. and then she convulses as if in pain and her image changes. the shield and spear warp away, replaced by a lotus-tipped scepter and the goatskin coat becomes a cloak of peacock feathers.

“damn you, romans! you power-hungry fools!” she shrieks, bringing a hand up to her head as if to nurse a splitting migraine.

reyna jolts up from her seat, staring at the goddess.

“you see her too?” frank asks still seated below her on the low sofa. reyna gives him an awed look, but the changing image of the goddess draws her attention. when she looks back, juno is back to the same form as before.

“many threads of possibility have been severed, but few paths remain under one condition only. embrace your old enemy. unite with the greeks. it is the only way to defeat gaea.”

the goddess lurches, both hands at her temples trying to rub away the headache. the unfamiliar form of the goddess comes into view again. she looks up and her glowing eyes meet reyna’s.

“perhaps you… and the one who hates me most.”

her visage changes again, settling on that of juno with her spear and shield.

“heed my final warning, romans.”

and then the goddess is gone, as if she were never there, and the festivities carry on around them none the wiser.

reyna sits back in her seat, staring into the place juno once was.

“what do you think it means?” frank finally asks. reyna takes a deep breath, shaking her head and opening her mouth to begin speaking when frank continues. “what’s in the east? and where are we going to get a boat of bronze? we don’t use bronze here.”

reyna frowns at him. “that’s not what juno said.”

frank returns her confused expression. “you didn’t hear her say, ‘you must travel east in a boat of bronze?’”

reyna shakes her head. “no, she said something about certain paths being severed. that our only path to victory comes from working with the greeks.”

there’s some comfort to be taken in the fact that she’s saying this to one of the most open-minded romans she has ever met. frank looks at her carefully, but nods in an understanding that reyna doesn’t share. the goddess wants them to work with the greeks, the enemy of rome for eons. it doesn’t seem possible. it’s a message reyna wished she had left for someone else to deliver.

frank considers for a moment. “so, she gave us different messages. you, to ensure cooperation with the greeks and me, to… go on another quest it seems.”

“she said nothing else?”

“no. just traveling in a boat of bronze. does that mean anything to you?”

reyna is quiet, watching the remaining campers trickle out of the mess hall. she hasn’t had time to think of her dream since the morning after she had it and even now, she feels reluctant to share.

“it might.” she says, and frank looks to her with furrowed brows. “in my dreams, i’ve been seeing a greek trireme made entirely out of bronze. jason was on it. and he wasn’t alone.”

she’s entirely reluctant to admit that last part, to talk about jason in a way that seems impersonal and much too private all at the same time, but frank doesn’t seem to think anything of it. reyna is grateful for that.

“jason’s alive? and with the greeks?” frank asks, his face reflecting a hope that reyna hasn’t allowed herself to feel.

“i’m not sure, but it certainly seems that way.”

“they must be on their way here. why else would juno warn us about how important it is to make peace with the greeks?”

reyna doesn’t say anything but sits and twists the silver ring on her finger.

“reyna… do you think this has anything to do with that boy that came–“

reyna cuts him off with an unintentionally harsh look and his face falls. she doesn’t show it, but that same gross guilt settles into her stomach.

“he is gone, frank. i don’t find a point in dwelling on it now.”

the lie is like sand in her mouth, coating her tongue and her throat and she has to force the words out. she wonders if frank feels the same, and hazel too. she wonders if they are the only romans taking on some levels of blame.

how disappointed her mother would be at her having second thoughts about killing a greek.

“we’ll discuss this with the senate tomorrow. juno’s warnings and my dreams. if this is what we think it is, well, i hope we don’t have to wait much longer for jason’s return. i’ve missed him.”

* * *

“we cannot trust the greeks!”

it’s been fifteen minutes of octavian’s latest tirade, a longwinded response to reyna and frank’s encounter with juno at last night’s feast. the convened senate doesn’t dare interrupt the augur in the midst of his speech but shift restlessly in their seats, looking uncomfortable.

reyna leans back in her chair, glowering at the back of the augur’s head as he animatedly implores the senate to heed his advice. frank is seated upon the twin chair beside her, looking uncomfortable both with his new position within the senate house and with octavian’s overzealous speech.

“the greeks will do anything to win. remember troy! remember odysseus, most deceitful among their so-called heroes! they know nothing of honor or integrity. is it not likely that they have already sided with gaea, allying themselves with her in hopes of a most underhanded victory? please, romans, i beg you.”

“juno herself has come to us.” frank cuts in as octavian pauses to take a breath, speaking for the first time since recounting his and reyna’s experience at the start of the senate meeting. “she said working with the greek camp is our only chance. and jason is with them. what more do you need?”

“do you wish to provoke the gods, octavian?” reyna demands, growing sick of his defiance. “surely words spoken to us directly from the queen of the gods supersedes whatever it is that you have seen in your auguries, which you have yet to fully share with the senate, i might add.”

octavian turns to the two praetors, fists clenched in the fabric of his toga.

“i am aware of what you two _think_ you heard, but i know what i have seen in my auguries. you do not want to know the content of them, reyna, but i assure you and the people of rome that this is not what we think. this must be a test! it’s all a test!”

reyna holds up a hand to cut him off. “my fellow praetor and i maintain the position that it is wisest to follow the guidance of _juno regina_. we must trust that her divine hand will not lead us astray. the gods have not spoken to us so freely throughout the entire recorded history of new rome. we must assume that these are dire times that require… special circumstances.”

reyna rises from her seat at the front and approaches the podium.

“but in the best interest of rome, we shall hold a vote. juno has foretold compliance with our fated enemy. those in favor of allowing the greeks to enter our camp peacefully?”

dark eyes skim over the senate, watching as dakota’s hand shoots up, as well as frank’s behind her. to reyna’s great surprise, michael kahale’s hand rises. a few other hands follow, but octavian’s arms remain firmly crossed over his chest as he scowls at the other centurions.

“then it is decided.” reyna proclaims, clapping her hands together. “we shall allow the greeks into our camp under the guidance and protection of juno. let us begin preparations and–“

as if on cue, a messenger rushes into the senate house. the boy huffs, his hands on the top of his heads as he manages to say, “sorry for the interruption, praetors, but it’s an emergency! our scouts report an approaching warship. what are your orders?”

“do you need to ask?” octavian bursts out. “blow that ship out of the sky! these omens are terrible. we are all tempting fate if we fall for this grecian trick. we must destroy them and preserve the legacy of rome!”

all eyes turn to reyna. she exchanges a glance with frank before returning her gaze to the approaching warship, studying it with a hardened expression. she’s been praetor much longer. the romans would follow her word alone.

“hold your fire. let them land but have the legion stand ready.” she orders. “the senate has granted the greeks amnesty. unless we are given clear reason not to trust them, they will be welcomed into our camp. senators, we will gather in the forum and await their arrival.”

the messenger takes off, his sandals flapping against the stone floor of the senate house as he steadily fades from view. the senators mutter amongst themselves as they rise from their seats, adjusting their togas over their purple camp t-shirts and making towards the exit.

reyna goes to follow the senators filing out of the senate house, but a hand gripping her bicep stops her. she turns to see octavian, angrier and more frightened than she has ever seen him.

“you will regret this, reyna. we cannot trust those greeks, even if they come bearing jason under their wing. you and i both know that.” he says in a low voice.

“the senate has voted. and i cannot condone a course of action that will lead us into another war.”

though there is something off about octavian’s behavior. it’s not his usual, power-hungry playing with prophecy to get his own way. his distress is real, and it is unnerving, like maybe he has seen something genuinely terrifying in his auguries.

his voice comes out in a rushed, earnest whisper. his hand on her arm tightens.

“you _will_ throw the spear, reyna. i have seen it.” and the manic look in his eye, desperation obvious in the way he grips her forearm, is so convincing it sends chill down her spine.

reyna yanks her arm out of his grip, trying to shake away the disquiet his prophecy has settled in her. she levels him steely look, determined not to show how his words have shaken her.

“come. let us go greet our new allies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> frank gets to kill polybotes bc he's a descendent of neptune, big-brained moves over here. also i PROMISE there will be reynabeth content in the next chapter.... i will feed y'all, don't worry.


	3. when the wolves come home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reyna, age twelve, googling 'girls kissing' on the new rome library computer after playing with annabeth’s hair for five seconds: uh oh! discovered something about myself. i’m gonna repress it for a little while.
> 
> annabeth chase:  
> reyna, age seventeen:  
> reyna: oh fuck

the massive ship breaks through the clouds, sailing steadily towards new rome with a white flag whipping through the wind. not that it provides much comfort, with two hundred feet of shining bronze, the same dragon figurehead reyna had seen in her dreams, and even at this distance she can make out the dozens of crossbows and other weaponry mounted along the ship’s sides.

the senators in front of her whisper to each other, their mutterings growing louder as jason comes into view, leaning over the railing of the ship with his toga and purple cloak worn over an orange t-shirt. the color doesn’t suit him. she knows it shouldn’t, but the sight of him like this unsettles reyna anyway.

another out of breath messenger barrels through the crowd of hastily gathered soldiers, breaking their ranks to reach reyna and frank. she pulls open a holographic scroll, revealing an impish looking boy with curly hair and mischievous eyes. reyna glances down, keeping stride toward the edge of the city while she watches the kid on the screen speak animatedly. she raises an unamused eyebrow and looks over to frank, who just shrugs.

the sound of the _buccina_ fills the valley once the warship reaches a certain altitude, broadcasting orders to the legion and new rome at large. joining it is the screaming of terminus, who had repaired himself already and must’ve been berating the newcomers for trying to muscle a warship through city limits.

reyna watches the skirmish with terminus from below, shaking her head at the debacle. this is so not going how she planned.

she assumes an agreement is eventually reached, because a few minutes after terminus’ shouting fades away, reyna watches a group of demigods descend down a rope ladder to the middle of the forum.

the sea of hastily assembled demigods part for reyna as she walks into the forum. her glare is dangerous and directed towards the few legionnaires who have neglected to put their armor on properly or forgot to take their weapons to a whetting stone after last night’s battle, or any other reason that leaves them looking sloppy and disorganized. most of the campers back away from their oldest praetor or else avert their gaze as they form lines for reyna and the other senators to walk between, funneling them towards the new arrivals.

a few of the newcomers look at the growing crowd with what seems to be awe as families from the city gather behind the legion. one in particular, the tall blonde girl at the front, is especially invested in studying every approaching individual. her gaze eventually settles on the troupe of roman leaders.

something twists in reyna’s chest when she locks eyes with the girl, for a reason different than recognition. yes, she’s the same one from circe’s island, but the feeling has nothing to do with bitterness, or jealousy, or even worry. it’s a feeling too dangerous for reyna to name, but for now she’ll tell herself it’s only intrigue.

if reyna’s eyes are dark enough to swallow up the light that strikes them, then the other girl’s eyes are the reflection of every bit of light reyna is taking in. they’re a fierce, stormy grey, but almost startling. they hold reyna’s gaze and she finds it hard to tear herself away.

the girl is obviously the greeks’ leader. even jason, for all his praetor garments and past leadership, seems to defer to her, follow her lead as the rest of their friends fan out beside her. whispers carrying jason’s name ripple through the crowd.

reyna recognizes something else in the girl, in the forced look of calm in her expression. it’s barely there, but there are cracks in the same mask reyna is all too accustomed to wearing. it’s something that leaders do, hide their own hopes and fears and worries, all for the sake of appearances. the girl is fighting back against something, maybe the desire to look around desperately, or to blurt out any number of questions. but despite all this, she holds the hard set of her mouth and stares back at reyna and the other approaching leaders without flinching.

their gazes hold, not breaking until only a few feet separate them and reyna reluctantly must turn to jason.

“jason grace, my former colleague.”

she wishes they could be doing this anywhere but here, in front of the entire legion and half the city and a handful of potentially unfriendly greeks. but even if they were able to reunite in a more private setting, reyna can see that there’s something off about him. there’s something different in the way he holds himself, the way he regards the senators and the surrounding legionnaires. his praetor robes don’t fit him quite right anymore.

jason meets her with a strange mix of relief and guilt in his expression, like he’s feeling bad for something he can only just now remember.

“welcome home.” reyna nods at the greek demigods. “we thank your friends for ensuring your safe return.”

“where’s percy?” the blonde girl demands. “where is the hero sent by hera?”

jason’s words die in his throat as he nervously looks over between the girl and reyna.

the energy amongst the senators shifts and reyna can feel the tension hang heavy in the air. there’s a cloud of animosity thickening between the two factions, threatening to boil over if she doesn’t come up with something quick. reyna regards the girl for a moment before responding.

“not here. camp jupiter hasn’t had any new recruits in months.” they’re not technically lies and reyna feels the collective sigh of relief from the senators behind her, grateful for her having taken on navigation through this situation. reyna will bear the weight of this pretense, as she does with all the camp’s burdens.

she takes a step towards the blonde girl.

“and you are?” reyna asks evenly.

the other girl holds out her hand. “annabeth chase. head counselor at camp half-blood.”

reyna reaches out, clasping her forearm just below the elbow, and draws her in closer. it’s a traditional sort of roman embrace but at this proximity, it’s far easier for reyna to examine all the small details of her expression. only for the sake of finding any traces of suspicion in it, of course. not to better take in the sharp shape of her jaw or admire the way messy blonde waves frame her face.

“reyna ramírez.” she replies, still not having let go, as if daring annabeth to break away first. “praetor of the twelfth legion.”

they hold the handshake for maybe a little too long. the world has nearly fallen away, talking in the crowd reduced to a white noise buzzing in reyna’s ears. when the two leaders finally release, the world comes back into view again, no longer overshadowed by annabeth chase.

“so yeah…” jason says after clearing his throat. “it’s good to be back.”

he gives another awkward smile before moving on to introduce the rest of their party. piper, a pretty but for some reason irritated daughter of aphrodite and leo, the same ball of energy that had introduced himself via holographic scroll.

“there is much we must discuss.” reyna says, clasping her hands together firmly. “centurions!”

the senators behind her hustle forward, awaiting her commands.

“tell your cohorts to stand down. dakota, alert the spirits in the kitchen. have them prepare a welcome feast. octavian, you go–”

“you’re letting these greeks into the camp?” the augur interrupts. reyna feels annabeth bristle beside her.

octavian continues, “reyna, the security risks involved are–”

“we’re not taking them into camp, octavian.” reyna says, stepping forward and flashing a stern look as she enters his personal space. he’s only an inch or two shorter than her, but he seems to shrink as she glares down at him. “we’ll eat here, in the forum.”

“but that’s–”

“a very good idea.” reyna cuts in again, seething at him through gritted teeth. “i know.”

octavian tucks his chin into his chest, like a wolf bullied into submission, but still dares to ask, “how are we supposed to relax in the shadow of a warship?”

“these are our guests.” praetor replies, punctuating every syllable. “we shall welcome them and discuss matters with them that concern both our people. as augur, it is your duty to burn an offering to thank the gods for bringing jason back to us safely.”

the other officers have dispersed at this point, leaving only the greeks to witness his insubordination. octavian’s glare at reyna shifts to a suspicious once over at annabeth. reyna steps in front of her protectively, narrowing her eyes at octavian.

“now, augur.”

the tone of her voice leaves no room for further insolence. he stalks away, shooting one last look back at reyna before disappearing into the disseminating crowd.

“excellent.” reyna sighs, straightening her toga. she turns to annabeth, gesturing at her side. “shall we?”

* * *

a barely organized array of sofas and low tables from the mess hall are carted into the forum. the majority of campers have gathered for a late breakfast, sitting amongst themselves and a few lares while reyna and a few of the senior officers join the greek demigods at the farthest table. the legionnaires know better than to cause a scene, but reyna can catch them stealing dubious glances at the camp’s latest company.

reyna sits at the head of the table, annabeth to her right, and far from the other side of the table where octavian is muttering something into michael kahale’s ear.

the rest of the table carries on friendly chatter, mostly lead on the roman side by frank and hazel and by jason and leo on the greek side. annabeth remains quiet and reyna can catch the blonde’s careful glances in her direction through her peripheral vision. they’re the only two not talking, sitting in silence rather than taking part in the conversation. reyna wonders what exactly is on annabeth’s mind.

after a few minutes, reyna stands and calls a toast to friendship. a hundred and some cups join hers in the air. following that are introductions before she settles back into her seat in time to catch the beginning of jason’s story.

jason explains how he had showed up at camp half-blood without his memory, and how he went on a quest with piper and leo to rescue juno from the wolf house. reyna notices the way he keeps grabbing at piper’s hand, sliding their palms together every time he pulls it away to gesture as he speaks.

reyna frowns, in a way that’s easily disguised as interest, when she starts to realize that there is more to their relationship, more to jason’s distance, more to all of this. she doesn’t know what she was expecting when he came back, but it wasn’t this. she doesn’t see her best friend. she sees a boy she should recognize eased into an orange shirt and so uncomfortable with his previous mantle, he’s already taken off his toga and praetor cloak.

reyna knows he didn’t love it, but it was a burden they shared together. they leaned on each other, kept each other going with talk of a future where they’d be the last demigods under twenty to take up the position. but his hard roman edge seems to be gone. jason doesn’t look like someone who has just come home.

“so that’s good news for that percy guy, right? maybe something went wrong with hera’s demigod exchange program.” leo pipes up, drawing both reyna and annabeth’s attention, as well. “he’s probably just lost in the mail. maybe he hasn’t made it here yet because he’s still trying to figure out where to go."

annabeth shoots him a dirty look, setting down the drinking glass she was holding harshly. the entire table goes quiet in the wake of her harsh stare.

reyna places a comforting hand on annabeth’s forearm.

“we’ll send our eagles out to look for him.” it’s enough to placate annabeth for now, but the grinning beast of reyna’s guilt begins to gnaw away at her again. it’s not the sort of guilt you can beat into submission, though reyna tries to push it from her mind anyway. “but we have more important matters to discuss right now, such as gaea.”

“right.” jason says from down the table. “we found out about her during our quest. she’s still half asleep, but she’s behind the monsters being freed from tartarus and she’s raising her children to lead her armies. porphyrion, the giant we fought at the wolf house, said he was retreating to the ancient lands. he plans to awaken gaea in greece. destroy the gods by… ah, how did he put it? right. pulling up their roots.”

“we’ve had our own issues with the giants, and gaea too.” frank says. he and hazel recount their quest to alaska, how they defeated alcyoneus along with bobby, feed thanatos, and returned the golden eagle to camp jupiter.

“yes, all while we at camp jupiter defended the city from an attack led by the giant, polybotes. praetor frank and his group returned in time to help finish him off.” reyna adds.

“i’m impressed.” jason holds out a hand to frank, grinning broadly when frank grasps it. “it’s no surprise they made you praetor.”

octavian snorts from the other side of the table. “yes, and now we have three praetors which is clearly against the rules! we can only have two.”

“we’ll have to figure out that issue later, octavian.” reyna says. “it’s a trivial problem in comparison to the more serious issues we must deal with right now.”

“reyna is right.” annabeth says, speaking for the first time and looking to reyna. “we should talk about the great prophecy.”

reyna nods. “we romans know it as the prophecy of the seven. octavian, you’ve committed the prophecy to memory?”

“yes, of course, praetor. but–” he starts, before being cut off by reyna.

“recite it, please. and in english, not latin.”

octavian huffs in annoyance, before starting. “seven half-bloods shall answer the call. to storm or fire the world must fall–”

“an oath to keep with final breath,” annabeth interrupts, staring at her plate of uneaten food. “and foes bear arms to the doors of death.”

the table goes quiet for a moment, everyone staring at annabeth who only just now seems to realize what she’s done. even reyna is caught up in her own intrigue, more interested in annabeth than in the prophecy they’ve just heard.

finally, frank leans forward a bit, looking at annabeth with a similar sense of fascination. “so, is it true that you’re a child of min– er, athena?”

“yes.” she says, straightening in her chair. “why is that such a surprise?”

octavian laugh derisively from down the table. “if you’re truly a child of the wisdom goddess–”

“that’s enough.” reyna snaps. “annabeth is what she says she is. and she is here in peace. you’d do well to treat our guests with more respect, octavian.” the augur simply shoots her an annoyed look.

annabeth clears her throat uncomfortably. “uh, thanks. at any rate, some parts of the prophecy are already pretty clear. foes bearing arms to the doors of death… that means greeks and romans working together to close the doors.”

“my brother, nico, went searching for the doors.” hazel adds.

“nico? as in, nico di angelo? he’s your brother?” annabeth asks, confused.

hazel nods as if it were obvious. “but he’s disappeared. i’m worried that… well, i’m not sure, but i think something’s happened to him.”

“we’ll look for him, hazel.” frank promises, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “we have to find the doors. thanatos told us we’d find the answers in rome. now that he’s free, monsters will return to tartarus normally, right? but unless we can find the doors and close them, they’ll just keep coming back.”

“so, we’ll have to find the doors and close them before we can head to greece.” jason says. “it’s the only way we’ll stand a chance against the giants.”

reyna pulls an apple from a passing fruit tray being whisked about by an air spirit, turning it in her fingers and studying the dark red surface. “jason, you of all people know how dangerous the ancient lands – and the mare nostrum – are. yet, you propose an expedition to greece in your friends’ warship?”

“the mary who?” leo asks, still tinkering with the bits of tin foil he has shaped into a fully-functional pinwheel.

“the mare nostrum.” jason explains. “our sea. it’s what the ancient romans called the mediterranean.”

“the territory that was once the roman empire is not only the birthplace of the gods, but of every monster, titan, giant, and… even worse incarnations. as dangerous as it is for demigods in the americas, it is ten times worse there.” reyna adds.

“we survived alaska. you said that would be dangerous too.” frank says.

reyna’s grip on the apple tightens, cutting crescent moons into the waxy skin. “the mediterranean is a different story. there’s a reason it has been forbidden for roman demigods to travel there for centuries. not a hero in their right mind would even think of going there.”

“the giants might be banking on us being too afraid to follow them to the ancient lands. too afraid of breaking the rules.” jason proposes.

gods, he’s changed so much. where was the by the book leader she had known? the boy who would bend the rules but never break them and only if the situation was far too dire?

“we’ll have to hurry. we don’t know exactly what the giants have planned, but gaea grows more conscious with every passing hour. she’s summoning more powerful monsters, appearing weird places, invading dreams…”

the apple juices trickle in between reyna’s fingers and down her hand, the crushed fruit turning to mush in her palm at the mention of dreams. she notices annabeth’s equally grim expression and wonders if she’s been sharing in the same awful nightmares reyna has. she wonders if she’s had to watch her home destroyed night after night in the reflection of fountain water.

“seven half-bloods must answer the call. jason, piper, leo, and me. that’s four.” annabeth says. “five once we find percy.”

“and juno told me personally that i need to travel east in a bronze boat. that must be to the ancient lands.” frank says.

“and i have to help my brother.” hazel adds.

“now wait just a minute!” octavian shoots to his feet, looking to reyna incredulously. “we’re supposed to just accept this? without a vote on the senate floor nor a proper debate? without seeking the god’s divine counsel? what is this–”

he’s interrupted by a harpy flapping over his head, her wingtips brushing over him before settling at hazel’s side. the sickly creature nudges hazel, muttering something about a number of boats that have met tragic ends.

“what’s with the chicken girl? and what does she have against boats?” leo asks through a few bites of his french fries.

“ella is a _harpy_.” hazel clarifies, sending a knowing look in frank’s direction. “and she’s just a little… high-strung.”

the harpy looks straight at annabeth. “bad luck. there she is. wisdom’s daughter walks alone–”

“ella!” frank laughs nervously, trying to grab the harpy as she clambers onto the table to stand right before the greek leader. “maybe now isn’t the best time t–”

“the mark of athena burns through rome.” the bird-girl cups her hands around her ears, eyes shut tight and immune to frank’s attempts to soothe her. the level of her voice rises, enough to catch the attention of the other officers down the table. “twins snuff out the angel’s breath who holds the key to endless death. giant’s bane stands gold and pale, won through pain from a woven jail.”

the effect is immediate. the mood of the table shifts, like all their energy was capable of changing the temperature to a frigid chill. even reyna stares in stunned silence, eyeing annabeth with great consideration. she had heard those words before, years ago, when she was still on the island. they didn’t make much sense to her then and it was only after taking on her praetorship that they begin to have some sort of meaning.

and they seem to mean something to annabeth, judging by the way her face has paled just slightly, only noticeable by reyna because she had been staring at her as it happened rather than the incomprehensible harpy.

the other campers haven’t seemed to notice anything other than the odd behavior they had all come to expect from the harpy. they carry out their meals without incident, as if removed from the situation entirely.

frank gently pushes the harpy towards hazel. “maybe you can take ella back to the barracks to get some rest. it sounds like she needs it.”

“hold on.” octavian grips one of his teddy bears, hands shaking as if prepared to tear it open right here and now. “what did she say? that sounded like a prophecy.”

hazel waves her hand dismissively. “ella, ah, reads a lot. she’s probably just reciting something she’s read recently.”

“like – like from a poetry book!” frank adds, trying to be helpful. “ella, you like poetry, right?”

the table, still quiet, looks between octavian’s suspicious glare and frank and hazel’s forced smiles, until annabeth laughs.

“really, octavian? maybe roman harpies are different, but ours are just barely intelligent enough to clean cabins and cook. do yours usually foretell the future? do you consult them during your auguries often?”

some of the roman officers join in her laughter, while others size up the scrambled harpy in frank’s arms before snorting at octavian. annabeth’s words have their intended effect. almost everyone is convinced that the idea of a harpy issuing prophecies was ridiculous to greeks and romans alike. everyone except reyna, who doesn’t buy this lie but instead plays the words over and over in her head.

“no, b-but–” octavian stutters.

“we have a real prophecy to worry about.” annabeth says, shaking her head and navigating them back to the topic at hand as hazel excuses herself and the harpy nuzzling into her side.

reyna is unconvinced by annabeth’s diversion, but it’s not a conversation she’s interested in having in octavian’s presence, so she’ll let it slide for now.

“well, octavian is right about one thing. we must gain the senate’s approval if any of our legionnaires are to go on this quest – especially considering the fact that it will be an exceptionally dangerous one.”

“reyna, please. this whole situation reeks of grecian treachery. that trireme is not a ship of peace.”

“i could give you a tour, man.” leo cuts in. “you can even wear a little paper captain’s hat if you’re brave enough to take the wheel.”

“don’t insult me.” octavian spits.

“no.” reyna says. “no one, greek nor roman, will set foot on that warship until we debate with the senate. we’ll convene in an hour’s time.”

the wind spirits start clearing the table, whisking away empty plates and leftovers on mini tornadoes.

as everyone is leaving, jason approaches her. that tiny bit of hope reyna has allowed herself starts up again. is he going to hug her and tell her he’s missed her? ask her how she’s been holding up? apologize for leaving her behind to handle everything on her own?

“uh, reyna.” he starts. “if you don’t mind, i’d like to show piper around the city before the senate meeting. she’s never seen new rome before.”

reyna’s expression hardens. she doesn’t understand what could have transpired at camp half-blood, at the wolf house, that would’ve changed him so much. he looks the same, tall and handsome, but he holds himself differently. distanced, from camp jupiter and his friends here. so greek and so far gone from her. is his memory still jumbled enough to make him abandon his friends here?

“of course.” she says coldly, and rebuffs any of his further attempts to speak with her. but he doesn’t make any, just grabs piper’s hand with a grin and pulls her away.

the group begins dispersing; the roman officers to go prepare for the impromptu senate meeting, jason and piper to explore the city, frank to track down hazel, and leo still talking an irritated octavian’s ear off about how ‘sick the ship’s layout is.’ annabeth, maybe not wanting to feel out of place, starts after her companions before she’s stopped by reyna’s voice.

“i’d like a few words with you, annabeth.”

the greek girl turns, looking at reyna carefully. she doesn’t reply.

“alone, if you don’t mind.” though it’s clear in her tone that reyna is not asking for permission. the other girl hesitates but doesn’t spare the worried glances of her friends a second thought.

reyna rises from the couch and extends her hand, palm up and waiting for annabeth to take it.

“come, daughter of athena. walk with me.”

* * *

exiting the forum, the pair make their way into the heart of new rome. it’s a mix of marketplace and residential buildings all along winding cobblestone streets, interspersed with terraced gardens, fountains, and gleaming white villas. the city is alive and bustling with civilians in the midst of their midday errands. the scars of the battle that had taken place a day before are present, but not prominent. it’s still plenty impressive, even as construction on the senate house can be heard over conversations of passersby. annabeth, much to reyna’s amusement, is incapable of hiding her admiration.

it’s an expression reyna is accustomed to seeing, shared by any demigod seeing new rome for the first time. so many of them come from broken homes, broken families. with the exception of those born in the city, this is the first example of order that any of them get to see. the structured life promised in camp jupiter, and the peace of new rome just beyond it. it’s a lot for anyone to take in.

but annabeth seems even more in awe than most, slowing to examine some details on a pillar into new rome’s library. reyna pauses with her, silently watching the greek girl marvel at the city. their arms are linked together, annabeth’s arm under hers and her hand curled back over it. reyna has never extended such intimacy in the past, but annabeth is foreign and feared and being escorted by the praetor in such a way is enough to keep the city’s residents at bay.

“ours are the best architects and builders in the world. rome always had them, in the ancient times.” reyna says, taking note of annabeth’s interest. the words seem to garner her intrigue, but not as much as what reyna says next. “many demigods choose to live here after their time in the legion. they go to our university. they settle down to raise families.”

it’s a dream reyna shares. she can’t be a soldier forever.

“families? these people, all of them, they’re demigods?”

annabeth seems surprised by this fact. exactly what she is shocked by, reyna isn’t sure.

“well, i suppose not all of them are demigods. like i said, people have families here. their children are legacies. they have only a quarter of godly blood, sometimes even less. but they live and train here regardless.”

“we don’t have anything like this at camp half-blood. we haven’t had… people usually age out of camp. they train enough to make their own way in the world, or else–” annabeth stops abruptly, as if stirring up bitter memories. reyna simply pats her arm, steering her down the street.

the pair are not immune to stares, even under reyna’s care. in her praetor robes, no less, enough to signify the sort of important business she’s on. out of the corner of her eye, she can see a few of the city denizens pointing in their direction. a few mumblings that sound an awful lot like ‘minerva’ reach her ears, but before reyna can do anything to fend them off, she finds the perpetrators already shrinking away. she looks back to annabeth whose eyes are harsh and stormy.

reyna laughs despite herself, immediately covering her mouth to stifle it. it’s an unfamiliar feeling and she’s a little sad to have stopped herself so soon. annabeth’s glare shifts to her, morphing into a puzzled expression. the unexpected lightness in reyna’s chest doesn’t go away.

“sorry, i just–” reyna shakes her head, still smiling at annabeth. “are you sure you’re not roman? or even amazon? lupa herself would find it difficult to improve a stare like that. you’re a warrior, all right.”

“sorry” annabeth mumbles, trying to tone down her expression.

“don’t be.” reyna says. “i’m a daughter of bellona.”

“the roman goddess of war?” annabeth guesses.

reyna nods in response. they don’t discuss the topic further, not when reyna turns and whistles loudly to get the attention of her two automaton greyhounds. they brush against their owner’s legs, regarding annabeth curiously.

“my dogs. aurum and argentum.” she says, patting them with her spare hand. “do you mind if they walk with us?”

annabeth doesn’t object, but she eyes them carefully.

reyna steers them towards the outdoor café, pulling annabeth close to her side as they weave through a line of patrons. the waiter greets reyna warmly, ready with a to-go cup. he quirks an eyebrow at annabeth, then gives reyna a sly grin that she tries to ignore as she takes the cup and offers it to annabeth.

“would you like some? they have the best hot chocolate here. not exactly a roman drink, but i suppose…”

“chocolate is universal?” annabeth offers, taking the cup with a grin.

“exactly.” reyna smiles again, taking a second cup from the waiter before guiding herself and annabeth out of the bustling patio.

they continue on, walking the cobblestone streets with the dogs at their heels.

“in our camp, athena is minerva. are you familiar with how her roman form is different?” reyna asks, once out of earshot of the busy café.

annabeth considers for a moment. “is minerva not as respected here? terminus and octavian… they didn’t seem to speak of her very reverently.”

reyna shakes her head, blowing some steam from her cup before taking a sip. “we respect minerva. she’s one of our most important goddesses, on par with jupiter and juno. a part of the capitoline trio. she’s known more for her handicrafts and wisdom, but we often call upon her in battle, as well.”

annabeth looks confused, as if questioning why her reception in the roman camp was far from kind, why even the people in the city stared at her strangely. it’s the piece of information reyna was least looking forward to sharing.

“she’s also a maiden goddess, like diana… the one you call artemis. you won’t find any children of minerva here. the idea that minerva would have children… frankly, it’s a bit shocking to us.”

“oh,” is all annabeth says and in the awkward silence, reyna can see her face flush a bit.

she feels a bit of sympathy for the greek girl. reyna gets the sense that the circumstances of her birth won’t be the only thing the romans find surprising about annabeth. reyna, for one, already knows the level of cunning and bravery she possessed. and that was years ago, on the island. those kinds of traits tend to age like wine. the other romans, it might take them longer to understand.

“i am aware that you greeks don’t see things the same way. tending to spurn rules and such. but romans take vows of maidenhood very seriously. the vestal virgins, for instance… if they broke their vows, they would be buried alive. so, the idea that a maiden goddess would have any children–”

“got it.” annabeth says roughly. “i’m not supposed to exist.”

reyna falters. gods, she is such an _idiot_. why did she think explaining where the romans were coming from would make her feel any better?

“i meant no offense, annabeth.” reyna gives her a sympathetic look. “i just meant that if we did have children of minerva in our camp, they wouldn’t be like you. craftsmen, artists, advisers, battle strategists, even. but perhaps not leaders of dangerous quests.”

annabeth doesn’t say anything in response, just wears an expression that reyna has very quickly learned indicates that she is deep in thought.

“there’s more.” reyna stops, snapping her fingers and beckoning one of her dogs over. she wants to trust annabeth. she really wants to, but trust is a hard thing to earn and even harder for reyna to swallow. even when it’s coming from a girl like annabeth. maybe especially then.

“the harpy, ella… we both know it was a prophecy she spoke, don’t we?”

annabeth shifts against her uneasily, not meeting reyna’s eyes. “it sounded an awful lot like a prophecy. i’ve heard similar lines, almost like echoes of it, but i’ve never heard those lines exactly.”

her dog has no reaction. she isn’t lying.

“i have.” reyna says, and annabeth’s eyes snap to her immediately. “at least, i’ve heard some of them.”

a ways away, the barking of the other automaton dog catches both of their attention. a group of children must have wandered from a nearby alleyway and gathered around argentum, petting him and laughing as he plays with them excitedly.

“we should continue on.” reyna says.

they begin to wind their way up the hill, dogs following and leaving the children behind. as they make the climb, reyna can see annabeth sneaking glances over through her peripheral. the barest bit of heat rises in the praetor’s face, despite the fact they were only halfway up the hill.

“i know you.” annabeth finally says, and it startles reyna into looking at her. “i mean, we’ve met before. when we were younger.”

the images flash briefly in reyna’s mind: her hands, smaller back then, running through wavy blonde hair, working a comb gently through the tangles, the young girl in orange smiling graciously, circe screaming madly, fire on the island.

reyna’s surprise fades into a dry smile. “very good. i wasn’t sure if you remembered me. of course, you spoke mostly with my older sister, hylla. she’s queen of the amazons now. she left this morning, maybe an hour or so before you arrived. at any rate, when we first met, i was just a simple handmaiden in the house of circe.”

“circe…” annabeth’s voice trails off, looking down at their walking feet. “and now you’re in charge of an entire city. and hylla is queen of the amazons. but how did you two… how?”

the look she gives reyna is one of simple amazement. the praetor almost goes to protest, feeling too flattered if she didn’t find the look a tad bit endearing.

“it’s a long story. maybe one for another time.” reyna finally says dismissively. “but i remember you well. you were brave. i’d never seen anyone refuse circe’s hospitality, much less outwit her. there was a time i thought of you often.”

not in the way hylla did, cursing her and percy’s names, but reyna often wondered what had become of the blonde girl. what the strange pang in reyna’s chest had meant as her fingers fumbled, trying to untangle blonde hair.

she realizes way too late that maybe she’s said too much and without much effort, reyna tears herself away from annabeth’s gaze. they’ve reached the top of the hill, where the terrace overlooks the entire valley, providing a welcome diversion to this conversation.

“this is my favorite spot.” reyna says. “the garden of bacchus.”

it’s not a place she shares with anyone. even jason knew not to bother her here. instead, he used to wait at the foot of the hill whenever he got too worried about her. they’re guaranteed privacy. that’s the reason why reyna brought her here, of all places. the only reason why, she tells herself.

the pair pass under the canopy of grapevines, into the garden of sweet honeysuckle and jasmine to join the bees buzzing through the perfumes of various flowers.

reyna pulls away from annabeth, letting her arm drop. they’re not under the watchful eyes of the city. there’s no need to accompany annabeth so closely now, but reyna finds herself missing the contact anyway.

she goes to stand at the edge of the terrace, annabeth soon joining her. the two of them stand together, silent for a moment, overlooking the city below circled by the camp, the cluster of temples, and the berkeley hills.

“i needed to hear it from you, annabeth.” reyna says after a quiet minute.

annabeth turns. “hear what from me?”

“the truth. convince me that i’m not making a mistake by trusting you. tell me about yourself. about camp half-blood. your friend, piper… i’ve spent enough time with circe to know charmspeak when i hear it. i can’t trust what she says. and jason…”

something dull aches in her chest, like a broken bone that didn’t heal quite right.

“he’s changed. he seems distant… as if he’s no longer quite roman. i’m not sure you’d understand.” she tries not to let on how she feels, but the hint of hurt in her voice just might betray her. there’s no one to blame, really, but the gods. maybe the fates. but just because something is fated, doesn’t make it hurt any less.

she feels a hand on her shoulder, the comforting gesture coming from annabeth. she wears a mixed expression, but something tells reyna she feels like she understands..

“i was born in virginia. well, maybe not in virginia exactly, but that’s where the west wind carried me. left me on my father’s doorstep. he got married when i was pretty young. i was never really close with my stepbrothers and my stepmom hated all the trouble i used to bring. i always felt like an outsider in my own family. mortals… they never understand. i’m sure you can relate.”

reyna just looks at her with open eyes, an open heart.

she listens to annabeth tell her story. how she ran away when she was only seven, how she met luke and thalia along the way. the little hideouts they made as they found their way to camp half-blood together. thalia’s sacrifice. how annabeth and luke never quite forgave themselves for it. she even tells reyna exactly how to find camp, on the north shore of long island and up half-blood hill.

as much as reyna loves new rome, annabeth makes camp half-blood sound like a dream. fields of strawberries so sweet, they burst in your mouth. a clear lake that’s never too cold to swim in. lush green grass soft as downy feathers. the big house and all its quirks. naiads and nymphs that tease passing campers. it’s a harsh contrast to the militant lifestyle found at camp jupiter.

annabeth talks about the friends she’s made there. the family she’s found there. the ones still present. the ones that left and didn’t come back.

she describes the traditions they have, some of them silly enough to make even reyna smirk, but others that just make her sad. like the beaded necklace she wears to mark each year at camp, whilst reyna bears her years in burned lines along her skin. she’s due for her fifth line any day now.

annabeth tells of years at camp, growing stronger, growing impatient. how she became one of the youngest senior counselors in camp half-blood history but was always restless and waiting. how she spent so much time itching for a chance to prove herself, waiting for a quest. and then percy came along.

percy. it’s not that reyna has forgotten about him. she can’t, not in the presence of someone who so obviously cares about him. it’s just that annabeth’s presence is making her forget a lot of things, like the weight on her shoulders, the mess awaiting them down in camp, the mess in the world around them. until now, it’s just felt like two girls talking. nothing on the line. just talking.

but his name makes reyna’s stomach turn, something she hides easily as annabeth’s focus shifts to the city below. her guilt claws at her back like an unfed dog, demanding that reyna satiate it with something, anything. the soft smile on annabeth’s face as she talks about their adventures together is enough to feed it, the beast of reyna’s guilt growing the more she learns about him.

but even annabeth’s smile fades as the tales of their adventure grow closer to that of present, as the events turn sour, as they culminate in a brutal battle in manhattan.

it’s a lot for reyna to take in, but she doesn’t say anything. just slowly pieces the puzzle together, fills in the blanks the romans were left with while they were fighting the titans’ army at mount othrys. old enemies rising. a betrayer demigod. reyna doesn’t think it’s her place to hold a grudge. the war on the greek side had been so much worse.

reyna can sense there’s something annabeth isn’t sharing. some old secret or fear so painful that she can’t bring herself to do so. reyna doesn’t say anything. she has her fair share of ghosts she refuses to mention. she’s not looking for divulgence here. she’s just looking for honesty.

and annabeth has given her that. in this short hour together, annabeth has shared a lifetime. there’s not much more reyna can ask for.

after annabeth finishes talking, reyna lets her gaze return to new rome. she hadn’t realized she had been staring at annabeth the entire time, gotten lost in her storytelling. after a moment, reyna points to the cluster of temples on a distant hill.

“that small red building, there on the northern side?” she looks to annabeth, who nods. “that is the temple of my mother. unlike your mother, bellona has no greek counterpart. she is fully, truly roman. she is the goddess of protecting the homeland. when romans go to war, we first visit the temple of bellona. inside is a symbolic patch of earth that represents enemy soil. we throw a spear into that ground, indicating that we are now at war.”

octavian’s haunted expression, his earnest prediction pokes at the back of reyna’s mind. she has to push the memory away.

“you see, romans have always believed that offense is the best defense. in ancient times, whenever our ancestors felt threatened by their neighbors, they would invade to protect themselves.”

annabeth nods slowly. “they conquered everyone around them. carthage, the gauls–”

“and the greeks.” reyna lets the comment hang. “my point, annabeth, is that it isn’t in rome’s nature to cooperate with other powers. we do not have a history of compromise. every time greek and roman demigods have met, we’ve fought. conflicts between our people have started some of the most horrible wars in human history.”

“it doesn’t have to be that way.” annabeth says. “we have to work together, or gaea will destroy us both.”

“i agree. but is cooperation even possible? we’re _supposed_ to be enemies.”

“is that what you want to be?”

reyna looks back at her in stunned silence. “of course not, annabeth. but i am only speaking for myself here. it would take a lot of convincing and i know there are those among my group who will remain distrustful of the greeks until the bitter end.”

“octavian.” annabeth guesses. “he follows you only because he has to. it’s a wonder to me how he has any allies.”

“he has the loyalty of a knife in your back.” the words come out like venom, like the poison octavian tends to seep into the ranks of legionnaires. “but he must truly believe what he is doing is for the best. either that, or he is such a master of manipulating words that i cannot see through his lies.”

“the gods have called on us to work together. not even that is enough to convince him?”

reyna shakes her head. “he believes it all to be some grandiose test for the romans. and i’ll admit, even i have my doubts. i worry juno’s plan may be flawed. even goddesses can make mistakes.”

annabeth doesn’t say anything, giving reyna time to ruminate on how the plan has already gone off the goddesses initial course. where it will take them now, reyna has no way of knowing.

after a moment, annabeth gives a resolute shake of her head.

“i don’t trust hera. but i do have faith in my friends. and i have faith in you, reyna. i have faith that you’ll do the right thing. you’ll do what it takes to protect your home, and all the people in it.”

reyna pauses, eyeing annabeth carefully before tucking her head down and becoming overly interested in her empty hot chocolate cup.

“appealing to my better nature?” she asks, trying to hide an amused smile. “why not placate me with offers of power, or glory, or honor? surely any one of these things would be a more fitting prize for a leader of rome, no?”

reyna looks up gently through her lashes and watches annabeth’s expression soften. the greek girl regards her with an almost tender understanding.

“because i don’t think you care about those things, reyna. you have honor. you have power. but this, here,” she gestures down to the city, to all the people in it. teenagers playing frisbee. parents with their children. elderly couples walking hand in hand. the promise of a kinder future.

“this is what is important to you, reyna. i can see that.”

reyna is silent. annabeth has seen her so plainly, when so many others have failed to do so in a much longer time of knowing her. it feels raw, but it doesn’t feel wrong.

“i believe you mean all this, annabeth.” reyna thinks she would even if her dogs weren’t around. “but if you venture into the ancient lands, especially if you make it to rome, there is something you should know about your mother.”

annabeth tenses beside her. “my mother?”

reyna nods. “when i lived on circe’s island, we had many visitors. most of them blended together after some time, but one in particular has always stood out to me. about a year before you and your friend arrived, a young man washed ashore. he was half mad from the heat and dying of thirst. he’d been drifting at sea for days. nothing he said made much sense, but he did say he was a son of athena.”

she looks to annabeth, waiting for any sort of reaction. she only looks back with a blank expression. “what happened to this demigod?”

“well… naturally, circe turned him into a guinea pig. but before that, he kept ranting about his failed quest. he claimed to have gone to rome, following the mark of athena.”

annabeth’s knees nearly buckle as she grabs the railing to keep her balance. reyna’s hand shoots out on instinct, grabbing annabeth’s arm to help support her.

it’s exactly as reyna fears. those words meant something to annabeth too.

“yes. he kept muttering about wisdom’s child, the mark of athena, and the giant’s bane standing pale and gold. the same lines ella was just reciting. but you’ve never heard them before today?”

annabeth shakes her head. “not… not the way ella said them.” she answers, her voice weak. “did this demigod explain his quest?”

reyna shakes her head. “at the time, i had no idea what he was talking about. but later, much later, when i became praetor of camp jupiter… i began to suspect.”

“suspect what?”

“there’s an old legend that the praetors of camp jupiter have passed down through the centuries. if it’s true, it may explain why our two groups have never been able to work together. it may be the source of all our animosity. until this old score is finally settled, so the legend goes, romans and greeks will never be at peace. and the legend centers on athena, why she above all greek gods detests romans the most.”

annabeth doesn’t say anything, but her grim expression is enough to tell reyna she knows exactly what she’s talking about.

“i think it may be related to the mark of athena… if this old legend is true, that is.” reyna continues. “but if you’re to follow the mark, then you should know it. it was said that–”

down in the valley, another rally of horns goes off. both reyna and annabeth’s heads snap in the direction of the noise, eyes drawing to its source: the senate house.

“damn it.” reyna swears. where had the time gone? the hour or so with annabeth had passed too quickly.

“the senate meeting is starting soon?” annabeth asks.

reyna nods. “you’ll need to speak at it to help me convince the senators. they’ll want to hear from the leaders on both sides. come, annabeth.”

she offers her arm again, which annabeth takes just as before.

“i’ll give you a brief lesson on how to survive roman senate meetings on the way.”

* * *

the greeks take their place in the front row, jason acting as the buffer between them and the roman council. the small miracle is that he bothered to put his toga back on, over his orange t-shirt still.

he certainly doesn’t carry the same weight as he did last time he was here. it must’ve been before the battle at mount othrys when reyna, not even two months into her praetorship, listened to his proposed plan beside the soon-to-be retired praetor he would ultimately replace. when she thinks of jason, that’s how he usually comes to mind. the centurion of the fifth cohort, commanding the room, detailing a plan that would have him at the forefront to preserve the lives of the legion. their secret weapon. their saving grace.

the senators, the lares, even most of the general populace that have managed to wedge themselves into the crowded senate house, eye jason with a heavy sense of skepticism. he hardly holds importance here now, not with reyna and frank occupying the front chairs and a peculiar greek girl scribbling furiously in a journal beside him.

he summarizes his past few months for the senate and urges them the say way he did reyna; let them go on this quest. let them face gaea and her giants in the ancient lands. it is the only way.

reyna rises as jason takes his seat again. she was never one for speeches, but it really is just something that comes with the job. sometime, when she’s lucky, the words come naturally to her even if she always overthinks them later. she steps off the dais, past the podium to pace before the front row. all eyes are on her now, waiting for her to say her piece.

“romans.” she begins. “as many of you know, my mother is the patron of defending the homeland. it is a cause i would give my life for and a duty i take upon myself gladly. but as it is, the task of defending our home cannot be simplified into merely increasing fortifications around our camp and the steady flow of continued recruitment. we are facing an enemy unlike any we have seen before. worse than krios. worse even than polybotes. gaea sits, not at our doorstep, but across the sea in the ancient lands.”

it's good to see she has their attention. the looks she’s getting are kinder than the ones directed at jason, more intrigued than suspicious. she can only hope what she’s about to propose won’t send every bit of favor she’s garnered over the years plummeting.

“though gaea is far, her threats are not as distant. she leaves us with two considerations. the first, and most obvious, is that if it is true that the prophecy of the seven is coming to pass then naturally, some of our legionnaires must leave their post here to aid in its completion. the auguries are unclear about this. we have only our own intuition to go off of. that being said, the proposition of allowing hazel levesque and praetor frank zhang to join the crew of the argo ii in their efforts to complete the prophecy is on the table. they have proven themselves in the quest given by lord mars and _juno regina_ has given her blessing.”

“but reyna!” octavian jumps to his feet. “we have only just filled the position of praetor. is it really wise to go back to having just a single leader? i mean no disrespect, but…”

reyna eyes him, his words empty of genuine concern and only challenge evident in his voice. the provocation doesn’t rattle her. she and annabeth had discussed this, exhausted every comment and question they thought octavian could come up with.

“i bore every burden of this camp alone for well over half a year. and if our predictions are correct, we have until the first of august before gaea rises. surely i can handle another month.”

whispers ripple through the crowd. they’re impossible for reyna to discern, but she’s able to catch a few nods of agreement.

octavian’s eye twitches.

“and how do we know this is indeed the prophecy of the seven coming to pass? do you forget the last time one of us let his hubris blind him? he led an entire cohort to their death!”

“michael varus led an entire cohort to their end. not seven demigods, as the prophecy calls for.” she counters.

“even with our additions, that still leaves one demigod missing. it will be the same disaster!”

“we’re finding percy.” annabeth interrupts. all eyes snap to her as she closes the front of her notebook. “he’s obviously the seventh demigod. we’ll find him.”

a collective chill runs through the senators at the mention of percy’s name. the entire house sits in silence. even reyna eyes annabeth for a bit, her brows furrowing. this hadn’t been any part of what they discussed.

“even if that is not the case… “ reyna starts, turning back to octavian and the rest of the senators. “the prophecy never states when the seven will be full formed. only that they must answer the call. if anything, it seems that our ambassador nico di angelo has already answered, does it not? perhaps he knew his place, just as much as the rest of you do.”

the answer satisfies nearly everyone. only octavian sits back in his seat, arms crossed and scowling.

reyna takes a deep breath before continuing. if the last proposal was met with pushback, the following one may be next to impossible.

“now for the second. it is important for us to consider that the homeland no longer constitutes just our own land here in california. if we are to be successful in defeating gaea, i propose we send aid to our demigod siblings in camp half-blood.”

as she expects, reyna is met with immediate uproar. demigods in the back rows stand in disbelief. their shouting echoes in the senate chambers, their questions and objections filling the room. she stands with their protests for a moment, before raising a hand for silence.

“after polybotes’ failed assault on new rome and the eagle to shield us, it is unlikely that we are to face another attack of such proportion. though it seems the giants have rallied in the ancient lands, we should turn our concern to camp half-blood. the giants may try to distract the questers and weaken our forces by targeting the greek camp. even the gods have emphasized the importance of working alongside our greek siblings. i am of the opinion that mutual aid is our only option.”

“mutual aid?” octavian snorts. “have we learned nothing from history? greeks and romans have never been able to work together. they’re an untrustworthy lot! beware greeks, especially those who come bearing gifts and promises!”

again, he jumps up from his seat to address the audience.

“i am firmly against this proposition. sharing a quest with the greeks is one thing. willingly lending them our power is another. who’s to say they won’t use it against us when we’re at our most vulnerable? betray our trust and try to wipe us out completely? i say we need to pour all our resources into protecting ourselves. only that will guarantee the endurance of the roman empire!”

reyna examines him for a moment. on the surface is the familiar smarmy attitude the augur is known for, but somewhere just below that zealous front lies genuine worry. like earlier that day, alone in the senate house, this isn’t his usual craftiness brought on by self-interest. sweat beads at his forehead and octavian wrings his hands in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. reyna wants to chalk it up to fear of losing any bit of importance in this camp, to having to share the limelight just for once, but she can’t bring herself to believe it this time.

“i understand your concern, augur.” she finally says. “there is value in learning from history, but there comes a point where history is just an excuse to reject change. and as we know from history, those who refuse to change are often left behind.”

the crowd is hard to read, even for reyna. most seem too stunned at the proposal to have a proper response to it though if she has to guess, reyna assumes they’re unconvinced.

“now, if my new… friend would come forward.” reyna gestures for annabeth to join her before the senate.

the other girl stands, setting her journal in the seat and wiping ink-stained fingers on her shorts. reyna can tell she’s nervous, but she walks before the senate with the same sort of authority as jason once did, as reyna does now. defiance in her eyes, command in her stature. leadership, no matter here or on the other side of the country, is her birthright.

“my name is annabeth chase. i am a daughter of athena.”

the statement is met with a volley of gasps and whispers, but annabeth carries on as if she doesn’t hear them.

“i’ve faced a lot of enemies in my time. monsters, titans. but none of these compare to gaea and the plans she has. praetor reyna and i have talked at length about the futures of our camps and we have come to the same conclusion. we both just want what is best for our people. but we realize that the path to achieving that goal lies in each other.”

“i acknowledge the reality of our history. this bitter feud between greeks and romans. i am aware that i am asking for something difficult. but at the end of the day, are we not all demigods? don’t we all want the same things? if we don’t work together, we’ll hardly go down fighting with honor. gaea will crush us like bugs. she’s relying on us to turn on each other, weaken each other so she can pick us off one by one. victory lies in only one path: by placing trust in each other. put your faith in us to protect the roman demigods who will venture east. and we will entrust in you the location of our camp and ultimately, its protection.”

annabeth hesitates, but only just.

“i’ll be the first to admit that camp half-blood will not withstand a full-on attack from gaea… we don’t have the infrastructure and after last summer, we don’t have the numbers either.”

she looks to reyna, then to the senate.

“i ask the romans to grant us aid so that our homeland will be protected while we set off to fight this war in the ancient lands. ensure that we have a home to come back to. in return, we can offer help in rebuilding your city after the war. maybe we can put an end to this century-long feud once and for all.”

reyna nods and has to suppress a smile. she knows a speech that’s turned hearts when she hears one. even some of octavian’s cronies seem unsure of him as he seethes quietly in his seat. the threat of gaea is a strong rallying point. people fear the earth mother far more than they fear him.

after a moment of quiet discussion, reyna approaches the podium.

“so, we have two matters to vote on. the first, to determine whether we will allow our legionnaires to enter the ancient lands in order to undermine gaea’s plans. all those in favor of sending hazel levesque and praetor frank zhang on this quest?”

to no one’s surprise, all the hands go up except octavian’s. in the past, he would’ve slowly let his hand rise to join that of the majority, even if he had expressed his disapproval. but now he sits silently, arms crossed in objection. the motion passes regardless.

reyna takes a deep breath, sparing a glance in annabeth’s direction. there’s hope in her eyes, fostered by the ease of passing the first proposition. reyna prays that it won’t be crushed.

“and all those in favor of sending aid to our grecian siblings?”

it’s a slow ripple, but as one hand rises, so does another. those in favor squeak out a small majority.

the relief is immediate in annabeth’s face and reyna is quick to join her.

the meeting is quickly adjourned. congratulations are brief, as well, with hardly enough time for handshakes and relieved smiles before they have to part ways.

and there’s still so much left to say. reyna can see it in annabeth’s eyes as their gazes meet constantly throughout the exchange of best wishes between greeks and romans. those words that join the graveyard of things unsaid, words that could maybe be resurrected if only they had a bit more time together. but they’ve an immense pressure on them, more pressed for time than ever before, and a room full of people doesn’t help. reyna can’t find parting words that are good enough, but annabeth’s simple and sincere expression of gratitude suffices.

later, as they’re filing out of the senate house to prepare to see the questers off, she’ll overhear octavian complaining about how there aren’t enough romans in the party of the seven. she’ll hear him grumble some rumor about reyna and the girl, about what they possibly talked about, what they’re planning. reyna ignores him.

they have work to do.

* * *

there are rites they must prepare for, to take place before sundown and in the wake of their departing questers: the ritual fire, a devotion to the gods, and the prayers for safe passage of the crew of the argo ii.

reyna and octavian meet in the _principia_. as the camp’s most senior officers, they’re charged with overseeing and performing their rituals. octavian is still boiling from the earlier senate meeting, but reyna pays him no mind as she leans back in her chair, going over their list of needed supplies. incense, check. milk, check. baked goods, check. flowers? they’d have to stop by the sunflower field beforehand…

it’s mostly quiet work, aside from octavian’s occasional mutterings, until they’re interrupted by a sudden visitor. to reyna’s surprise, annabeth storms into the praetor offices with a bag slung over her shoulder and wearing a determined expression.

reyna sets down her work and slowly rises from her seat.

“the honored leader of the greeks has graced us with her presence…” reyna says, a careful lilt to her voice. “to what do i owe this unexpected pleasure?”

it’s not that reyna isn’t happy to see her. even if she’s only come to say goodbye, there’s some satisfaction to be found in the fact that annabeth has chosen to do so personally. it’s just that there is apprehension to be had because reyna is wary of allowing octavian anywhere near the other girl. not with his borderline obsession with augury and annabeth at the center of not one, but two centuries-old prophecies. his resolute distrust of the greeks goes without mentioning.

the greeks were set to leave that evening, just before the ritual blessings were to take place down below. reyna was to see them off, alongside the other roman officers, but with goodbyes taking place from the stern of their warship. annabeth was supposed to have already boarded.

“i’m staying.” she says, matter of factly.

the words are met with immediate silence and a single raised eyebrow from reyna. she listens to her heartbeat thud in her chest a few times before responding.

“is that a request?”

“greeks and romans need to work together on both sides of this war. besides, you said it yourself. we need to defend the homeland. no one knows camp half-blood better than i do.”

reyna would be indignant if she weren’t entirely impressed by annabeth’s audacity. only she would be so bold.

“absolutely not.” octavian squeaks out, his face purple in fury. a vein bulges intensely in his forehead. “working with the greeks is one thing. but letting them stay in our camp, our _home_ , reyna. that is out of the question!”

“octavian–” reyna starts.

“such a thing is unheard of. they’ve been our enemies for centuries and now they think they can just come waltzing through our camp? that they can come and stay where they please? i won’t allow it, i simply won’t allow it. this is going too far, and you know–”

“octavian, it will be fine for a few–”

her words go ignored, uncharacteristic even for octavian who usually heeds reyna’s warning despite whipping himself into a frenzy.

“greeks are dishonest! they are untrustworthy. i say let them go and die on this silly quest. throw their lives away in some half-baked plan made by half-baked demigods. but allowing one of _them_ to remain in camp is an invitation for disaster. i don’t care what they’ve promised! all greeks do is deceive and cheat and trick. this one is no different.”

annabeth, to her credit, seems only seconds away from throttling the augur to death. that’s more than what can be said for reyna, who might only take a heartbeat to do so.

“don’t let her fool you, reyna. i’ve never taken you for someone who would be so beyond reason. this could be our chance! we could raise rome higher than it’s ever been. cement ourselves as the heroes of history. we certainly don’t need help from a _graecus_. they’ll just end up being trampled underfoot as they were by our ancestors centuries ago. if you do this reyna, you’ll be making a huge mistake!”

“octavian.” the name comes out coldly, dripping with warning and the augur stops dead in his tracks. “i will claim annabeth as my _hospes_. that is my final say in the matter.”

his jaw drops and for the first time in reyna’s entire knowing him, octavian is at a loss for words. it’s because he knows, and reyna knows, that he can’t fight this. he looks flabbergasted, as annabeth just stares at the two of them confused. even reyna feels startled by her own rashness, but she hides the feeling well.

reyna knows this is the final straw for him. for reyna to use their own laws against him is something he can’t stand. of course, octavian only approves of such actions when they are his doing. he goes to speak, trembling with anger, but can’t find the words.

“you can go prepare for the rites. that is all.”

again, octavian looks as if to speak, but ends up stomping away instead, nearly barging into annabeth as he exits the _principia_.

“awkward.” annabeth laughs, sheepishly. she paces the rest of the room to stand on the other side of reyna’s desk. the praetor stills, staring in stunned silence into the doorway octavian has just disappeared through.

“what was all that about? i’m your… what did you call it?”

“ _hospes_. my guest.” reyna answers, clearing her throat. “we romans take our laws of _hospitium_ very seriously. you’ll be treated better than anyone here. it’s no simple matter.”

the weight of what she’s done begins to dawn on her. and why?

because ensuring annabeth’s safety is a way to relieve the crushing guilt of her best friend’s blood on reyna’s hands? because annabeth saw her differently, and saw her truly? because that small tenderness in the soft spot of reyna’s heart spoke before her brain could catch up with it?

reyna sighs. “this contract is sacred. and it is inviolable. there’s no going back after this.”

if annabeth is put off by the seriousness of this pact, she doesn’t let it on.

“reyna, i don’t know how to thank you.”

she falls quiet again, and reyna lets herself look at annabeth with pleading eyes. the confusion, the hostility stirred up by octavian, has all fallen away. they’re just two girls now. two girls with a war on their hands and no one around to lean on. so much is on the line now, all because reyna is guilt-ridden and smitten and determined to save her home at nearly any cost.

“just don’t make me regret this, annabeth.”

“you won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY getting into some reynabeth content…. hope you guys enjoyed this update!!! as always, i love reading your comments and kudos water my crops, but i really just hope this is as fun to read as it is for me to write! please continue to suspend your disbelief and destroy canon with me. i’ll see y’all next month :D


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